High overhead, Draq surfed the wind currents as they swept over the mountain’s crest. His elegance in the air was accentuated by the nature of his scales. Bursts of light reflected from each of his metallic plates, showering his body with thousands of tiny explosions.
Upon flexing his muscles, the scales flattened against his body. A solid reflection replaced the blinking star appearance, allowing him to focus the sun’s rays intensely onto a nearby bird. Temporarily blinding it, Draq swooped down and captured his prey in midair for a quick meal.
Thorik watched the event above him, nearly forgetting about the dragon’s bad temperament. “How wonderful it must be to fly,” he said before looking back down at the rock he balanced on.
Jumping onto the next exposed rock, Thorik worked his way across a rushing stream a dozen yards wide. Reaching the far shoreline, he tied his guide rope to the base of an ancient bridge platform. The arch of the bridge had been swept away long ago, but the stone steps leading up to it still remained on both banks.
A series of waterfalls were above them as well as below. Fortunately, the old path had led them to an area where a flat rocky ledge allowed them to pass the stream upon the exposed rocks that once held the bridge. The water was perhaps waist high for a Num, and it moved quickly. Even if it was shallow, Thorik knew better than to chance traveling against powerful water currents. The Nums would need to stay up on the rocks.
His viewpoint overlooked the mighty Kingsfoot Valley. He could see the stream run down into the King’s River as the sun ignited an amazing inferno of yellows and reds within the tree leaves. Above the colors were strong deep greens of spruce trees that led up to the snow line.
Thorik looked back to the other shore as the rest of the Nums prepared to cross. Grewen moved at a slow pace up the hillside and had fallen behind, just visible through the trees. Ambrosius was still unconscious as Grewen easily carried him in one of his arms.
Afraid of heights, Brimmelle braced his back against the wall of the mountainside, just prior to the stream. Reciting the words from the Courage Rune Scroll, he continued to visualize himself falling over waterfall to his death. Never leaving Farbank prevented him from ever being higher than Sammal’s old oak tree during his youth. The thought of crossing a stream only a few feet from the edge of the falls caused him to become dizzy at the thought of it.
Ignoring the Fir, Wess double-checked the knot on his end of the guide rope that now spanned the stream. Emilen loosely grabbed it to provide balance while stepping on the moss covered stones. Even though they were slippery, she skillfully stepped from one to the next with ease. Once Emilen finished her crossing, she motioned for Gluic.
Gluic wasn’t as agile, but that did not deter her from slowly working her way across the river utilizing the rope for balance. As she did, she could hear her son over the slapping water of the falls.
Brimmelle closed his eyes and hugged the rock wall with his back and arms. “Don’t look down,” he shouted to Gluic as he began visualizing her falling over the cliff. “Get a footing before you move your hands. Only move one hand off the rope at a time.”
Fed up with his instructions, she stopped on the next rock and turned halfway back toward him to stop his annoying directions.
Before she could say anything, Gluic noticed Grewen finally catching up to them. It was odd to see him run. His body didn’t seem designed for it. Perhaps it was the fact that he was carrying Ambrosius, or was it something else? The trees. The ones from which he had just came from. The limbs were moving. Thrashers were in heavy chase.
Thorik could see them as well. “Everyone! Get across. Now!” Starting back across the rocks to help them, he quickly reached Gluic and began helping her across.
Wess pulled Brimmelle from his safe location and onto the first rock and led him across the stream. He was halfway across before he turned and realized the Fir was still on the third exposed boulder.
Brimmelle stood solid, frozen with fear. Staring at the edge of the waterfall, his body started to sway. He looked over the falls at the long drop beyond and envisioned himself tumbling down it. The rope slipped from his hands and he fell forward, only to be stopped as the rope lodged under his armpits. Light-headed and shaking, he leaned over the water’s breaking point in horror. Grabbing the rope at his chest for dear life, his leaning caused an extreme bow in the guide rope that made it difficult for him to balance and his feet shuffled behind him for grip on the slick rock.
Wess struggled to stay on his own rock. The rope was now out to his side, due to Brimmelle, and no longer helpful. Jumping back across the rocks, Thorik grabbed Wess just as he began to lose his balance.
Helping Wess to a larger flat rock, the Sec headed back for his Fir whose feet splashed in the water after he lost his footing.
Grewen pounded his way toward them, breathing hard as he lifted his heavy body with each step toward the group. He realized the error of having Draq fly ahead to look out for assassins. Danger could just as easy come from the local wildlife. The giant could use the dragon’s help in these times. There was no way for Grewen to defend himself from these creatures and protect Ambrosius at the same time. The only option he had was to run for safety, which was not one of his strongest attributes.
Behind Grewen, the thrashers were catching up quickly. Near the front of the pack, Thorik could see the silverhead at full gallop. There wasn’t time to help Brimmelle step to each stone. Something quick needed to happen. He needed to get Brimmelle across and prevent the thrashers from following them.
Reaching Brimmelle, Thorik pulled him back upright. “Close your eyes.” Thorik cut the rope from the thrasher’s side of the stream and tied it onto the Fir’s belt. A secure knot now linked the Fir to the safe side of the stream. Thrashers don’t like water, so all he needed to do now was have Grewen remove the stepping stones.
The sudden strength Thorik felt by taking charge was quickly suppressed as he looked over the Fir’s shoulder. His heart tightened and his throat went dry as he gazed at Avanda. She had been hiding from the group behind the ancient bridge platform. Still needing to cross the river, Thorik had just cut her guide rope leaving her stranded on the wrong side of the water.
“Avanda, run this way. You’ll have to jump to the third rock before I can help you,” Thorik yelled.
“I can’t! I’m afraid of the water. I can’t swim.”
Panicking, Thorik needed to save Avanda’s life. “You won’t have to be in the water. Just run and jump. I’ll catch you!”
She looked behind her to see the tribe of thrashers already attacking Grewen’s legs as the giant Mognin ran toward her. They would be on top of her within moments. “Promise you’ll catch me!”
“I won’t let anything happen to you!” he promised.
Grewen and the thrashers were nearly on top of her. Two of the primates had already latched onto his back and a third onto his leg. Two raced along each side of him with several more still chasing. As they approached, a few of them noticed the young Num cowering before the stream. Thirty yards became twenty and then ten as the quickly raced forward.
Trusting Thorik, Avanda stood up and bolted out from behind the stone steps and directly in front of the giant, who nearly stepped on her.
Thorik held onto Brimmelle firmly with one arm as he prepared his footing the best he could. “Get rid of these stepping stones as you cross,” he yelled to Grewen as the giant approached the water right behind Avanda.
Avanda jumped to the first one and then the second before closing her eyes and leaping high into the air, trusting that Thorik would catch her.
Still carrying Ambrosius, Grewen reached down with his free arm and started grabbing the exposed rocks and flinging them over the falls as he moved across the water. The surging stream only splashed up to his calves, making it easy for him to cross.
Thorik reached out with his free hand to catch Avanda’s outstretched body. He grabbed her and in returned she grabbed him. Unfortunately, he lost his footing in doing so
. Thorik fell backwards into the water, dragging Avanda and Brimmelle with him.
By the time Grewen bent down for the second rock, another thrasher had leaped onto his leg. The giant picked up and tossed the rock before swatting the creatures off of him. Their flailing bodies splashed into the rushing water before its force quickly carried the creatures over the edge and down to the sharp rocks below. Halfway across the Mognin was free of the thrashers and the stream was missing its rocks for passage.
However, Thorik, Avanda, and Brimmelle had been captured by the rushing water were quickly washed over the edge and out of sight.
A moment later the rope that Thorik had tied onto the safe side of the stream went tight, knocking Wess off his feet as it shifted directions from the water out to the ledge. Emilen jumped for the rope and attempted to pull it up, but her small body was no match for the weight on the other end. Just as Wess showed up to help, the rope went limp. Their eyes widened with disbelief and concern at the thought of what could have happened. Pulling up the end of the rope, it was still tied onto Brimmelle’s broken belt.
Chapter 11
Leadership
Fate of Thorik Page 11