Warrior: The War Chronicles I

by Sean Golden

  Lirak wanted to head back to the others but that familiar small voice in his head whispered wait, so he waited, with his anxiety growing with each passing moment. After what seemed an eternity, one of the men in the center of the meadow stood and looked around, his eyes sweeping right past where Lirak and Thorn crouched unseen in the shadows. He then put his fingers in his mouth and emitted a low whistle, just loud enough for Lirak to hear it. Thorn’s ears twitched, but he made no move. Soon after, from the forest behind them, another set of four invaders came out of the forest and into the meadow. With them, surrounded by them, was a man dressed in simple gray robes, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. The one in gray and the four new men made their way to where the fire was being started, and each sat down. It appeared they were about to have their midday meal.

  Lirak slowly and silently made his way deeper into the shadows of the forest and soon was hurrying back to the area he had left the others. When he got there Mayrie was just pulling the last strips of groundbird off the fire and was wrapping them in leaves. Jerok, Patrik and Baxi were talking and gesturing toward the east.

  “Oh, there you are,” Mayrie said, looking at Lirak as he strode into the opening.

  “Put the fire out Mayrie,” Lirak said, “Jerok, we have trouble.”

  Mayrie immediately started putting handfuls of dirt on the fire, which went out quickly, giving off very little smoke. Jerok and the others came over to Lirak, who quickly described what he had seen.

  “We have to cross here then,” Patrik said.

  “No,” Jerok said, “It’s too steep here and we could too easily be heard by them.”

  “Then we head back further west and cross somewhere farther away,” Baxi said.

  Jerok paused and looked at Lirak, who looked back at Jerok with a grim and determined face.

  “We came here to kill invaders. Now is our chance to pay them back,” Lirak said, his jaw set in determination.

  “It’s our turn to catch them by surprise,” Jerok agreed.

  “This is suicide,” Baxi objected. “There are as many of them as of us. They have better weapons and our arrows will just bounce off them.”

  “Lirak showed us where to put our arrows” Patrik said.

  “We need a plan,” Lirak said. “We can’t just walk into the meadow and start shooting arrows at them.” He paused and scratched his chin. “The one in gray is our biggest concern, if my dreams are any guide. We will have to kill him first.”

  Lirak thought it was odd to hear his own voice calmly talking about killing another human being, but the rest of the party simply nodded their heads as if he were talking about the weather.

  “The meadow isn’t a good place to fight them.” Jerok’s voice was thoughtful. “We should follow them and strike when they are most vulnerable.”

  “Set an ambush?” Patrik asked.

  Lirak and Jerok exchanged another glance. “They must sleep. We can follow them until they make camp for the night,” Lirak said.

  There was a long silence as the meaning of the conversation set in. Mayrie walked over and stood next to Lirak. Jerok came and stood on his other side. Wordlessly the others made a ring, and then Lirak extended his right hand. Mayrie did the same, grasping his wrist. Patrik grabbed Mayrie’s wrist, and soon their hands were locked together in a traditional Dwon ritual of togetherness.

  “To the death,” Lirak said.

  “Death,” the others echoed.

  “But let’s try to make sure it’s their death, OK?” Patrik said with a grim smile.

  Warriors

  None cherish life so much as those who face death.

  – Dwon oral tradition

  Lirak and Jerok lay on their bellies, peering out of the underbrush into the forest ahead. They watched as the four walking men and the one in gray made their way through the forest. Earlier they had crossed the stream from the meadow, heading north. Their path was as close to north as they could manage. The other four alternately led their beasts and mounted them, depending on the thickness of the forest. They patrolled four corners of a square centered on the walking men. There was a precision and discipline of action that Lirak and Jerok had grown to appreciate and worry about. These men were well trained and appeared to be on a mission. They moved slowly though, not being familiar with the forest, and Lirak and Jerok had little trouble keeping up with them. The rest of the party followed behind, all moving as silently as possible. Thorn stayed with Lirak, but was like a shadow; even Jerok no longer noticed his presence.

  The sun was fading, and Lirak saw that the behavior of the men was changing. Before, they had resolutely pursued a northward track. Now they paused frequently and the men on the beasts ranged wider afield.

  “They’re looking for a campsite,” Jerok whispered to Lirak. Lirak nodded.

  Soon they heard a low whistle from their left, to the west. The walking men moved off in that direction, and soon all were converging on a single location.

  “Looks like they found one,” Lirak whispered back. “I’ll follow them, you tell the others that they’re stopping.”

  Jerok nodded, and slipped back as Lirak rose up and moved to the northwest with Thorn.

  Lirak didn’t have to go far. Soon he heard angry voices. The words were not any that he could understand, but it was obvious that an argument was underway. He came to the top of a small rise, and keeping his head low and in line with some bushes, he peered over the edge.

  A large boulder rose out of the ground to his northwest. One face of the boulder was flat and faced east. A large tree was growing just at the northeast corner, which created a small area protected from two sides. The tree was a great oak tree, whose branches reached up and over the top of the boulder. Two of the walking men were preparing the camp for the night. All four of the beasts were tied to a large low-hanging branch of the oak tree. There were seven men in the camp; one was the gray man. Lirak didn’t see the other two. Two men argued in the middle of the camp, but neither was winning. As Lirak watched, the man in gray barked out a single word, and the argument ended in mid-sentence.

  The sky was getting dark fast. The moon was to be full that night, so Lirak felt they would have an advantage if the men built a large fire. It’s easy to be night-blinded by a campfire, and if you can’t see something, you can’t fight it. This was Lirak’s hope, that he and his party would be able to take advantage of the night.

  Thorn looked behind Lirak, and Lirak soon heard Jerok creeping up behind. Patrik was with him.

  “I told the rest to stay back for now,” Jerok whispered.

  “Two are not in the camp,” Lirak whispered back.

  “We must find them first,” Jerok said.

  “Yes, but first let’s see how they set up their camp,” Lirak suggested.

  The men built a large fire, much larger than any the Dwon would have built. It threw shadows of the men on the rock wall as they moved. From the beasts the men pulled out blankets that they lay down, and then they began to prepare their evening meal. Two of the men kept their weapons ready and watched the forest.

  “Now we find the others,” Lirak said. “I’ll go west and circle around the camp. You go east. We’ll meet on the far side. Use the sound of the tree-frog so we can find each other.”

  He tapped Patrik on the shoulder. “Patrik, go back to the others, tell them to stay hidden, we’ll eat a cold meal tonight.” Patrik nodded and turned to go.

  Lirak moved west, and Jerok moved east. Both used all their years of hunting in the forest to move as silently as possible. Thorn padded along silently with Lirak who moved in a large arc first to the west, but then moving north. About halfway to the rendezvous location, Thorn suddenly stiffened, and his hackles rose. Lirak stopped. Thorn was sniffing the air. Lirak waited. After a moment Thorn’s tail twitched and he looked due north. Lirak followed his gaze, but saw nothing. He began crawling north one inch at a time, working entirely by feel, but careful not to crack a twig or rustle a bush. Thorn inched along beside him.<
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  After several moments of this, Lirak found the man sitting on a large rock, his bow-device in one hand. With his other hand he was eating something as he looked around. Lirak waited to see if he would move, but he didn’t. He stayed sitting on the rock, except when he occasionally stood up to stretch his legs. After watching for a short time, Lirak and Thorn crept back a ways, and then continued their path around to the back of the boulder. He encountered no one else. As he got close to the rendezvous point he heard Jerok making soft tree-frog sounds and repeated them back. Soon they were crouched down, heads close together in the dim moonlight that found its way through the forest canopy.

  “There is one just to the north of the oak tree, he isn’t moving around,” Jerok said.

  “The other is just south of the boulder, he was eating his dinner,” Lirak said.

  “I think they are going to be there for a while,” Jerok said. “They’ll probably change out later so these two can get some sleep.”

  “I think so too. Let’s go join the others,” Lirak said.

  The two moved around further to the south where they could move more quickly and found their way back to the others. There they devised their plan for the attack.

  Lirak lay on his belly in the dark, Thorn beside him. Lirak hoped Thorn would stay put, at least for now. The full moon shone brightly, but the light that filtered through the canopy was dim. As Jerok had predicted would happen, one of the men in the camp had come out and after a short exchange of words Lirak could not understand, the new man replaced the old one. Soon the new guard was sitting on the same rock. Lirak had crawled as close as he dared and was lying on his belly beside a low bush not more than twenty-five feet away. He had been lying for a long time now. He hoped Jerok was right that the two men would swap out at the same time. If so Jerok should be doing exactly what he was doing.

  He carefully marked time in his head; they had agreed to make their move a hundred heartbeats after the exchange. He felt the weight of the round stone in his hand and went over his plan again, hoping that it would work. It was time.

  With his right hand he tightly held his stone knife, restored by Kathoias. With his left he held the round stone. As quietly as possible, he moved back just far enough to be hidden by the bush. Then he lobbed the stone over to his right as far as he could, then poked his head back beside the bush. He heard the stone land with a ‘thud’, and the crackling of leaves.

  The man on the boulder swiveled his head toward the sound. He stood up and spoke strange words. He looked around once, and started moving toward the location the rock had fallen. Lirak waited a moment, and then rose into a crouch. The man was still looking where the rock had fallen. He was no more than twenty feet away. With a quick prayer, Lirak crept forward, moving as silently as possible. Thorn didn’t move. When Lirak was halfway there, the man began to turn back toward Lirak. Lirak desperately leaped forward, moving more by instinct now than by plan. Just as the man’s eyes met his own, Lirak’s blade met his neck, nearly severing his head. He went down in a blood-spurting heap, making only a short gurgling sound. Lirak’s heart was pounding, but he heard no other sound. He hoped Jerok had been as lucky.

  Leaning down he saw that the man had worn a cord made of the same hard material as their blades, but it had been cut neatly in half. Lirak looked down at his knife, half expecting to find it broken again, but it was solid and unmarked, except by the man’s blood. Lirak picked up the cut cord, noticing it was made by linking small circles of the material together, and his blade had sliced one link neatly in two. Deciding to figure this out later, he took the man’s blade and moved quietly back to the others. When he got there, Mayrie grabbed him and hugged him fiercely. He gave the blade to Baxi. Then they waited for Jerok. Just when Lirak was about to go find him, Jerok’s call came from their right. They returned the call and he made his way into the camp.

  “Everyone here?” He asked.

  “Yes, are you okay?” Lirak said.

  “Yes, he never knew what hit him,” Jerok said. “I took his blade.” He held up a blade identical to the ones Baxi and Patrik held. Jerok looked a little green, but his jaw was firmly set.

  They looked toward the main camp where the large fire still burned, illuminating six bundles on the ground, and one figure who sat on the left side of the fire, idly poking a stick into it with his right hand.

  “OK, let’s move,” Lirak said.

  Lirak, Jerok, Patrik and Baxi crept forward as far as they could in the shadows, three with an invader’s blade and Lirak with his Kathoias-blessed stone knife. Mayrie, Niwoq and Dobit stood behind a tree just beyond the fire’s illumination and each fitted an arrow to their bow. Lirak took a final look at the man still awake, steeled himself for action and sent the signal for Mayrie, Niwoq and Dobit to fire. The man looked up at the strange sound, and three arrows hit him, one bounced off harmlessly, one stuck in his side under his arm, and a third, with bright red fletching, struck him in the neck. He groped at the arrow in his neck making a gurgling sound, fell with a thump, thrashed for a moment, and was still.

  Nobody breathed for a moment. Then they all moved forward. One of the men stirred, rolling over and mumbling. Then he sat up. For a moment Lirak’s party froze. Then the man saw the dead man at the fire and he yelled in a strange tongue. An arrow caught him in the chest, mid yell. Other figures sat up, woken out of their deep sleep. An arrow caught one in the shoulder. Another arrow bounced off the rock wall behind them. Then Lirak yelled “Come on!” And they charged the camp.

  The men were caught by surprise and were unarmed, but they were not helpless. Lirak launched himself at the closest one, striking out with his blade. It struck the man in the left shoulder, but with his right hand, he grabbed Lirak’s blade hand and they were soon grappling on the ground beside the fire. The man was bigger and stronger than Lirak, but Lirak’s mind was racing and his senses were heightened as never before. Lirak lifted his right knee sharply into the man’s groin, and as the man’s grip relaxed for an instant, he yanked down with his knife and blood fountained from the man’s shoulder and chest. Lirak watched as the life left the man’s eyes as his knife sliced into his heart.

  Looking around Lirak saw the gray man starting to rise from his bedding, but before he could move, pain exploded in his head as a heavy fist caught him on his left ear. His right shoulder was yanked and he was suddenly face to face with one of the invaders. Even in his heightened state Lirak could not completely avoid the head butt and he felt the invader’s left hand grab his right wrist. He saw the man’s eyes light up with excitement. Suddenly a ball of fur and claws was on the man’s head and shoulders as Thorn came out of the dark like an avenging forest spirit. Lirak felt his arm go free as the man reached for Thorn whose fangs were buried in his bicep. The man pushed Thorn away, his face torn and bloody, and reached for Lirak, but Lirak’s stone knife found his heart first. He fell over heavily.

  Lirak stood and looked wildly around the fire. He saw Patrik wrestling with one of the big invaders, blood streaming down his face. The invader was on top and was choking Patrik. Lirak leaped forward and plunged his knife into the man’s back, and he screamed in pain. Patrik, freed from his grip, then plunged his own blade into the man’s chest, and another invader lay dying on the ground. Lirak picked up the man’s heavy blade.

  Suddenly there was a flash of light and a loud sound that made Lirak blink. For a moment he was unable to see, and he dropped to the ground as his eyes recovered. He heard more screaming, and heard someone calling for Jerok. As his eyesight returned, he saw the man in gray robes standing in the center of the camp; he had a short wooden stick in one hand. Beside him Baxi lay on the ground, his head half blown away. As he watched, an arrow came out of the night and hit the man in the side, but sprang back as if hitting a stone wall. Everything was happening slowly. He saw the man turn and point the wooden stick at something beyond the fire. Lirak threw the heavy blade in his hand. It hit just above the man’s wrist on the hand holding the
stick, cutting deep into the arm. The man screamed, dropping the stick, and another arrow caught him in the throat.

  “Lirak!” he heard his name from behind him. Without thinking, he dropped into a crouch and spun on the ball of his right foot. He felt a rush of wind above his head as he dropped. Something crashed into him, knocking him down. A heavy weight landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. Something crashed down on his head, and blackness overwhelmed him.

  Lirak woke slowly. His head ached horribly. Memories of the night before came back in bits and pieces. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. “Baxi!” he called.

  “He’s gone.” Mayrie’s voice came from behind him.

  Lirak looked around. Mayrie sat on the ground, her back leaning against the rock wall. To her right Patrik lay, dead, unconscious or asleep, Lirak could not tell. To her left, Jerok lay on the ground, Hetyl leaning over him. His shirt was off and Hetyl was sewing up a wound, Jerok lay with one arm over his eyes, grimacing in pain as Hetyl worked. Thorn was nowhere to be seen. Lirak whistled loudly.

  “Baxi is buried,” Mayrie said, her voice sounding hollow. “Niwoq and Dobit dug a grave and put him in it.”

  “Is Patrik alright?” Lirak asked.

  “Yes, Jerok has a nasty cut, and you have a huge knot on the back of your head, but Baxi is dead.”

  “I know Mayrie, I saw him,” Lirak said.

  “His head was half gone,” Mayrie said, still with an emotionless tone to her voice. The gray man pointed a stick at him, and Baxi’s head just blew apart.” She paused. “I shot him with an arrow. But it was too late.”

  “What happened to all of the invaders?” Lirak asked.

  “They’re all dead. But they fought hard.” She stopped and shook her head. When she spoke again, the wooden tone was almost gone.

  “Lirak, they were asleep when we attacked them. But they still killed Baxi, knocked you out and almost killed Jerok.” She paused. “We’re not like them, we don’t know how to fight and kill. And there are so many of them. More than the trees! How can we fight them?”