Green Rising (The Druids of Arden Book 1)
Page 19
“Clear the castle!” Renalth could be heard as he and Aibreann ran from the castle keep.
The ground shook from deep within, the vibrations building in intensity until one massive shock wave moved through the ground like a flick through a wet towel on laundry day. Afterward the tremors ceased and all seemed quiet except for the occasional rumble falling or shifting.
“Are all well?” Quinlan called out as he got to his feet.
The grove began to sound off and all answered back including Wylla, Ronni, and Kenri.
The next moment tore the hearts from Chyne and the druids when a terrible scream split the air and echoed back across from the four corners of Arden.
“Na’veyja!” Kenri cried and fell to his knees covering his ears. “She is in agony!”
“Aiii!” a yell of pain drew Quinlan’s attention to Chyne.
Chyne reached out to him, her face distorted with pain. “Brother, I need thy—aiii!” She collapsed to the ground before she finished.
“Chyne!” Quinlan shouted and ran to her side.
“Ni!” Cassae exclaimed, pointing to the far woods. “The flaura! It’s gone out!”
The grove all stared at the woods, which mere moments ago shone with the shifting glow of flaura.
“Nae even a glimmer!” Kian said.
“What evil is this?” Quinlan asked no one in general.
“I don’t be liking this, Quin,” Sovia said, “not one bit. It bodes great ill.”
“Chyne?” Cassae tried to get her friend to respond but to no avail. “At least she still draws breath.”
“Sire!” Modgrin yelled from nearby and pointed to the northeast horizon.
The smoke from the volcano could be seen billowing high into the air and stretching out across the eastern horizon with the prevailing winds. Flashes of lightning and flying fireballs were visible even at this distance.
“The conclave?” Therin asked.
“Sure to be,” Quinlan said, a thousand questions racing through his head. “It felt as if my spirit was being ripped from me.”
Renalth, Aibreann, and Modgrin joined them as they walked through, lending aid where necessary.
“Looks ta be over the valley of the Great Marsh,” Renalth said. “I’d say a volcano blew her top, but there’s nae one in the valley nor a hundred league in any direction.”
“I am sure Na’veyja has been severely wounded,” Kenri said. “Something devastating has happened.”
“We must ride at once,” Quinlan said.
“We’ll send an aid caravan as soon as she’s loaded, dears,” Aibreann replied.
Renalth agreed. “And we’ll send a message to Glen Arwe and have them send out scouts ta the east. Maybe they’ll know somethin’ by the time ye get there.”
“Gratitude, Your Majesties, that is most kind,” Quinlan said. “Let us hope for the best.”
“Here, ye should carry this.” Modgrin gave Quinlan a badge of office from his sash. “Gives ye access under my authority in case ye run across any Raskanish military.”
“Gratitude, Minister.” Quinlan turned to his grove. “No questions, no complaints, Ticari and Ticca, you are to remain here and help organize the aid caravan and accompany it when it leaves. Sovia and Cassae, stay and do what you can for Chyne.”
“Quin,” Cassae said.
Quinlan shook his head. “You are the best healer I know, Cass. I need you here.”
She nodded reluctantly and kissed him. “Come back.”
“As fast as the wind,” he said.
“Ya mind if I ride with ye?” Wylla asked.
“If you are ready to leave now,” Quinlan said.
“Aye, only need time ta throw a saddle on Ember.”
“Let’s get on,” Quinlan said. “Dry rations and water only. We ride light and fast.”
~~~
A day and a half of fast travel, resting only long enough to spare injury to their horses, and they reached Glen Arwe.
“’Twere a four-day ride the last time we came through here,” Kian said as they checked in with the Glen Arwe patrols, but they arrived before the scouts had time to return.
“Resupply and we ride on,” Quinlan said. “Another three days’ ride to the conclave if we can make it there.”
The second morning after Glen Arwe they saw a Kalnuvian caravan coming from the north down toward the northern crossroads. Quinlan could see the Inn of the Four Winds and the smithy at the crossroads, but no horses roamed the corral and no smoke rose from either building. The closer he got to the crossroads, it became clear the place had been deserted.
The sky from this closer distance was filled with the clouds of ash and smoke coming from what Quinlan could only imagine was a volcano, but it made no sense. A dense layer of clouds covered the landscape. The air under the clouds at the horizon was a hazy grey and becoming darker as it drew closer to them.
“Hail, friend!” A front rider from the convoy rode up and raised an empty sword hand.
“Hail, friend.” Quinlan returned the gesture.
“I be Randall Kinworthy, Captain of the Kalnuvian Guard,” he said. “We bring healers, medicine, food, and water if you be needing ’em.”
“Our gratitude, Captain,” Quinlan answered. “We are freshly arrived and know not what lies to the east but what the eye can see. We intend to continue on, at least as far as we can ride.”
“I’ll have the main group hold at the crossroads and my men and I’ll ride with you if you’ll be having us.”
“Gladly so, Captain.”
The reconnoiter group rode east for several hours. The visage of the volcano now dominated the horizon. The central column of smoke rose beyond sight. Bright streaks of blue-white lightning flashed across grey and black patches of billowing smoke. Distant booms went off out of sight and tremors passed through the ground in unison. Flame-red mushrooms of sparkling hot ash surged up through the cooler black smoke.
Grey gritty ash fell heavily and covered the ground as the troop pushed into the darkness of the volcanic clouds. They covered the horses’ noses and their own as the ash fell even heavier the farther in they rode.
After only an hour, the men and horses began to struggle against the gritty ash when it worked into their eyes and mouths, down their throats, and under their clothing and saddles.
“How much farther to the conclave?” Captain Kinworthy asked.
Quinlan’s heart sank. “Another day’s ride.”
He looked at Quinlan with sympathy in his eyes. “Master Quinlan…”
Quinlan thought hard on whether to turn back or push on. The clouds above grew darker and the ash fall was almost impossible to see through.
Quinlan looked at the captain, then at his grove mates, and back at the darkening roadway ahead. “I hope you find peace in rest, my friends and loved ones.”
The captain turned his men around and headed back the way they had come. The druids slowly did the same.
Quinlan stopped after a few minutes passed. “I must ride down to the next bend, at least,” he said to his grove mates. “Ask the captain if he’d wait.”
“Quin!” Therin said, but he turned to ride off.
“I’ll be right back,” he called back over his shoulder.
Quinlan reached the bend in a short time.
“Good boy, Biscuit, only a little longer.”
Visibility was low as he rounded the bend and he could make nothing out. He rode a few trots more and still nothing.
“Eh, dung,” he said. “All right, boy, let’s go.”
He turned and rode back to the bend. A last look over his shoulder showed nothing but strange swirls of falling ash. He continued, but for some reason stopped to look again.
The strange swirls began to bob back and forth and then there were more.
“Oh, Na’veyja be praised!” he exclaimed as the swirls turned into the ash-covered survivors from the conclave. He rode back around the bend and signaled to his group to come before he rode on to th
e survivors.
Three horses, two drawing laden carts, appeared out of the ash with a group of people walking along with them. People began to cheer and wave as he rode into view.
“Blessed be whoever you are,” Joseah said when Quin rode up to them.
He dismounted and took down his bandana.
“Quinlan!” she exclaimed. “Ha ha! I should have known it would be you!”
“Primerey Joseah! In Na’veyja’s name, it lightens my heart to see you.”
“And you, my friend. Silari, it is Quinlan, come to save us.”
“Well met indeed, Quinlan. Are ye alone?”
“No, Segoney Silari, a host waits around the bend and the ash lessens not far beyond. Primerey, what happened? Is this all who are left?”
“A longer story for another time, but I must tell you, Acimasiz has escaped. Our fellow druids, their families, the conclave grounds, and everything within—are gone.”
“A horrible and sad day for the Order.” Quinlan frowned.
The survivors around them cheered as the rest of the rescue group rode around the bend. The Kalnuvian troops dismounted, putting two to three survivors up in their place on the horses, and the druids did the same.
“Wylla!” Joseah called out when she saw her ride in. They met and embraced. “I am so grieved over Freyn passing. How are you holding up?”
“Good enough, Primerey, better than most on this day,” she said. “The conclave?”
Joseah shook her head.
They embraced again before they went to help others. The band got moving once again and soon after came to the edge of the falling ash.
People dusted off the grey ash from clothes and hair and used what water was brought along to wash out the grit from their eyes, mouths, and throats. More than one of the survivors retched up the water along with ash from their stomachs.
Joseah told them briefly of what happened the day the volcano swallowed the Great Marsh. How she had seen Acimasiz walk free in her vision and how they gathered together to head out for the crossroads.
“We came upon other groups of survivors and we continued on together.” She smiled at a young Raskanish woman holding a newborn swadled against the ash. “I was becoming concerned we wouldn’t reach the crossroads until I saw you riding out from the gloom.”
Quinlan thought of the day he had seen Lissa before he left for Drifting Leaf. She’d told him, “The Seyna has stood for an age, Quin. It will still be here when you return.” How wrong she had been. The memory of her triggered others of Bertrynn, Tomas, Sander, and all the druids he had shared his life with and would never again see in this world.
The Great Marsh, the Seyna, and Fairtheora had been consumed by the destruction. The once-beautiful wetlands had been completely wiped from the face of Arden. All of which, no matter how much it meant to him, was a small concern compared to fact Na’veyja had disappeared and Acimasiz was free.
Quinlan told Joseah about Chyne and the flaura around Cammachmoor going dark on the day of the catastrophe.
“What of Na’veyja?” he asked.
She shrugged sadly and embraced him. “I know not, Quin. Perhaps in time, there will be answers.”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “For now, let’s get everyone to the northern crossroads. The Kalnuvians brought a caravan with physicians and medicines and they have fresh food and water. “
“They are a caring people and good friends of the Order,” she said.
“From there, we go to Glen Arwe and then…” He shrugged.
“We will figure that out in time, Quin.”
The troop set out for the border of Raskan to see its precious cargo delivered to safety.
*~*~*
Chapter Twenty
Six days after Quinlan found the survivors, the slow-moving caravan reached the Raskan border, with two more days left at walking pace to reach Glen Arwe.
“Dust risin’ in the distance,” Kian said.
“Let’s go see who it is,” Quinlan replied.
The five druids walked ahead to the top of the next hill to get a better view. The two figures out in front of an assembly of wagons, carriages, horses, and riders were Ticari and Ticca. They waved and rode faster when they saw Quinlan’s group on the hill.
The siblings shared hugs and greetings with them when they gathered.
“A grand sight for sore eyes,” Therin said. “How’s Sov?”
“She’s well,” Ticari answered, “and Cassae, too.”
“Chyne?” Quinlan asked.
Ticca shook her head. “No change.”
“What word of recent events?” Swela asked.
“Much word,” Ticari said. “Too much for now.”
Quinlan felt a great pride swell for the siblings. “I could not be more proud of you both. Well done.”
“Aye, lad and lass no longer, ye stand as druids of the Order in ma eyes,” Kian said. “Well done, indeed, the twain of ye.”
The reunion was short-lived as the relief group reached the hilltop. The rescue force now had more than enough transportation to get everyone off their feet and moving at wagon speed. Ticari had a brief conversation with a Grannagh militia commander and they all rode back to the survivor caravan.
“Gratitude for your efforts, incredible young druids.” Joseah embraced Ticari and Ticca both. “I am most impressed.”
Ticari bowed. “Gratitude Primerey, but we would have not succeeded without the help of others.”
“Well said, Settey Ticari, yet without your help, we would still be walking.” She turned to Ticca.
“Gratitude, Prim—” Ticca started to cry before she could finish. Pie Thief popped out and started to chitter.
Joseah stroked the marmoset’s cheek. “Wync, little one.” Pie snuggled up against Ticca’s neck and went fast to sleep. Joseah wrapped Ticca in her arms. “I know, Ticca.”
“It was to be my first rotation in the Great Marsh,” Ticca said between sobs, “and now it’s gone. Where will we go?”
“Onward,” she said. “For now, we must get these people to shelter and I still need your help to do it. Are you prepared?”
Ticca straightened up and wiped her tears away. “Yes, Primerey.”
“Good,” she said and climbed into the driver’s seat of a wagonful of children and took the reins. “Siestrey Quinlan, if you would be so kind as to take command of our departure.”
“It shall be so, Primerey,” he said and rode a short distance ahead. “Everyone mount up! Wagons—forward!”
The combined relief forces slowly surged forward, coalescing into a line down the roadway toward Glen Arwe.
Quinlan signaled his grove to ride closer together. “Ticari, tell us what transpired after we left.”
“King Renalth sent troops into northern Shaan.” Ticari had to raise his voice to be heard over the din of hoof and wheel. “The dreyg forces had already abandoned the northern outposts and withdrawn to the south.”
“Yes, of course,” Quinlan said, “because it was a feint to keep us distracted. Have they pulled back to Trossachsmuir?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I believe they intend to leave the northern continent,” Quinlan said. “They are gathering their forces for transport. We must act before they sail.”
“And what’re ye thinkin’, Quin?” Kian asked. “Ride up ta the gates of Teivas Keihas and ask the most evil bastard in the world ta kindly surrender? It took Na’veyja and the Gwylari together ta defeat him in the first place.”
“I have not the answers, but all beings have a weakness. We must learn how he was subdued ages ago and somehow attempt to do the same. What else, Ticari?”
“King Renalth and the armies have gone south of Drifting Leaf and are based now at Pinebough. Cassae and Sovia went along and took Chyne with them. They will wait for us there.”
“Did they give a reason?”
“Kenri said Chyne’s father lives in a village near Pinebough and maybe he could help Chyne. Messages abou
t the calamity have been sent to all druid outposts and replies have returned pledging any assistance necessary. Na’veyja’s cry was heard all across Arden and many Gwylari were affected.”
“Affected?”
“Yes, but I stand a vexed fool from the explaining. You’ll have to seek further answers from Master Kenri.”
“Worry not, Ticari, Kenri could vex even the most learned scholars at times,” Quinlan replied.
“Kenri,” Wylla said, “is at times pleased by that, I think. ’Tis rumored there’s nae druid raiment big enough ta house his ego.”
“A trained druid without the restraint or control of the Order could be a dangerous thin’,” Swela said.
“Aye and there’s many more like him out there,” Wylla added.
“Does the Primerey know?” Ticca asked.
Wylla nodded. “They’re out there with her knowledge and blessing.”
“How do you know?” Ticca asked.
“Because I’m one of them,” she said. “Freyn and I. ’Twere the Primerey and the Wardens of the Woods who sent us ta seek out Kenri. The Wardens heard about Kenri and Eldret findin’ the artifact years ago and have been in secret contact ever since.”
“Why have you not spoken of this before?” Quinlan asked.
“I was sworn ta silence.”
“Then why break yer silence now?” Swela asked.
“Because all those I’ve sworn ma oath ta were at the conclave and now are naught but ash in the clouds,” she answered. “I chose ta serve the Wardens over the Order and now the Wardens are nae more. I’m fated ta become a rogue druid like Kenri.”
“Dung!” Joseah said from the wagonful of children she managed to bring up right behind them without anyone noticing. The children giggled when she cursed. “Apologies, young ones, wync.” The children all slipped into slumber.
“I owe ye the apologies, Primerey,” Wylla said.
“Beetledung! Wylla, I am to blame for all of it. The responsibility rests with me and me alone. You have always remained a druid in the Order of Arden regardless of joining the Wardens. You will always have a place with us.”