Warrior: The War Chronicles I

by Sean Golden

  “Yes, you said so last night before you passed out. Jerok knows.” She stood and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “There are others out there, not the invaders. From the description of the scouts, Chutan thinks they are from beyond the wall.”

  “Yes, I saw them,” Lirak said. “I need to bring them here to talk to them, especially one of them.”

  Mayrie stared at him. “How did you see them? We didn’t know they were there until today.”

  “The dreams are not just dreams,” Lirak said, “at least not always. Tell Chutan to send a scout to meet with them.”

  “But we can’t speak their language,” Mayrie said. “How will we get them to understand?”

  “One of them speaks our language,” Lirak said. “One is Dedrik, from the firestone valley.”

  Mayrie just stared at him. Then she nodded and left the tent.

  Lirak looked around the tent. The fire no longer smoldered, someone had cleared out the fire from the night before and a new bright fire was burning. The tent smelled of the yellow powder. His head was still aching, but the fuzziness was gone from his head. He straightened his clothes and stepped out of the tent. Thorn appeared from out of nowhere and took up a position on his left.

  It was midday outside, the camp was mostly quiet. With Jerok’s group and scouts sent out, most of the men were occupied. He headed toward the center of the camp where Chutan and Mayrie sat on a large fallen log talking. Mayrie was pointing back in Lirak’s direction when she saw that Lirak was standing there. Chutan was also looking at him. He walked up to the two, who said nothing as he approached.

  “Do we have a scout out to meet the southerners?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Chutan said. “Mayrie tells me you have had spirit dreams.” He stood and took a long look at Lirak. “Are you well?” He asked. “You look tired.”

  “I have a headache,” Lirak said. “But the powder worked as you said it might. I saw many things last night, and learned some things about spirit dreams.”

  “What is your purpose in bringing the Hanorians here?” Chutan asked.

  “To find out what they need from us,” Lirak said.

  “What makes you think they need something from us?” Mayrie asked.

  “They sent a group into the forest full of invaders, and one of them speaks our language. That can’t be a coincidence,” Lirak replied.

  They grew silent and waited. Finally they heard the sound of a group of men walking through the forest. Soon they were visible entering the clearing. There were seven men, five in Hanorian garb, Dedrik, who was dressed much as Lirak recalled, and one of Lirak’s scouts. All had their weapons, but none had them in their hands. Dedrik was in front, his bearded face calm and his eyes actively scanning the camp. His eyes met Lirak’s and Dedrik stopped sharply, the man behind him almost walking into him.

  Lirak and Dedrik met a few paces away from the downed tree trunk. Chutan and Mayrie stood on his right and Thorn sat on his haunches on his left. Dedrik carefully extended his right hand. Lirak also reached out and they clasped arms, palm to elbow in the traditional Dwon manner.

  “Well, so you are the great forest ghost,” Dedrik said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Lirak said. “I am no ghost.”

  “To the Groln you are,” Dedrik said.

  “The ‘Groln’?” Lirak asked?

  Yes, those you call the ‘invaders’ refer to themselves as ‘Groln’.”

  “Groln.” Lirak said the word, rolling it around on his tongue. It tasted bad. “Why are they here?”

  “It’s the same old story.” Dedrik actually chuckled. “They want to take over the world. Right now the free nations of the south are the only defense we have. Hanoria is the leader of the free nations, if Hanoria falls, we will enter a new dark age.”

  “New dark age?” Lirak asked.

  “I told you about the ages of the world Lirak,” Dedrik said.

  “Why are you here?” Lirak asked, his voice hardening.

  “We think you and we can help each other,” Dedrik said. “You have already helped more than you know.”

  Lirak grunted. “We are gnats in a windstorm,” he said.

  Dedrik ignored the comment. “We know that the Groln are about to launch a major effort to rid the forest of you. You are interfering far too much with their shipments and there are rumors that you have even killed a warlock. Or two.”

  “What is a ‘warlock’?” Lirak asked.

  “The men in robes are warlocks,” Dedrik said. “They have powers of destruction at their fingertips.”

  “I’ve seen some of the destruction they can cause,” Lirak said.

  “I am glad to see you alive, Lirak,” Dedrik said, his voice filled with simple sincerity.

  He looked down at Thorn. “And who is this?” he asked.

  “The mother’s cub,” Lirak simply replied.

  “Ah yes, I see,” Dedrik said. “And you keep him in this camp? Do you realize how big that thing is going to get? How do you keep it from killing your men?”

  “Thorn is no problem,” Lirak said. “He is a companion, not a pet.” He met Dedrik’s eyes. “What have you come here for?”

  “We want to offer you safety, as much safety as there is in the world anywhere these days. You have proven to be powerful and clever warriors. We can offer you better weapons, better armor and safety behind the walls between your battles.”

  “We are forest people,” Lirak said. “We fight for the forest, we live in the forest.”

  “They will find you and kill you all,” Dedrik said. “You have no idea how brutal they can be.”

  “I think I do,” Lirak said. “I think we may know their brutality better than you.”

  Dedrik looked at Lirak and finally nodded. “Perhaps you do, but perhaps not. You understand the situation well enough though.”

  Lirak pointed to the west. “My men are preparing to attack a group of the invaders as we speak here. We don’t have time to talk right now.”

  “Would you like some help?” Dedrik asked.

  Lirak paused, looking carefully at the heavy weapons and clothing of the Hanorian men. “I think they would make too much noise in the forest. You can wait here until the battle is over. I will want to talk more with you then.” With that he turned his back on the men and headed into the forest, Thorn loping beside him.

  Choices

  There was once a villager who was not satisfied with his humble hut. So he built a larger one, but that did not satisfy him either, so he built a taller hut which made him proud. Then the winter storms came and blew his hut down while the smaller, shorter huts endured. The wise man knows his limits.

  – Dwon parable

  Lirak moved silently through the forest. He had seen the area clearly in his spirit-dream and thought he knew exactly where Jerok would choose to attack the invaders. If he was right, the attack would be coming very soon. The chill air frosted slightly with each breath, but it was not truly cold. Thorn moved effortlessly beside him. He lost himself in the sense of movement for a long time, his legs pumping with almost effortless movement as he sped through the forest. Then, when they got close to the area, they slowed and began to carefully worm their way through some of the deeper foliage. Soon Lirak could hear the heavy footsteps of the invaders.

  From his location in a thicket, he saw two invaders walking with their bow-like weapons held at the ready. They were looking wildly around, clearly frightened, their eyes wide and darting from side to side. They moved through the trees, looking for the clearest path. Behind them four others emerged from the forest, following the first two. Lirak waited. Then a large group of perhaps twenty invaders walked in a tight group. In their midst was a man in gray robes, holding a wand.

  Suddenly from his right he heard a short tree-frog sound, repeated twice. The invaders stopped in their tracks, weapons at the ready. One of the ones in the large group started barking orders in their strange language, and af
ter a moment they began moving forward again. As they began moving, a large net woven of vines fell from the trees on the four walking together. They went down in a heap. As they struggled to get up an arrow came flying from Lirak’s right, its head trailing smoke and fire. It landed on the heap of men and net, and a sudden rush of blue flame leaped skyward. The men screamed in agony, one ripping free of the burning net and flinging off his heavy burning outer clothing. One arrow caught him in the chest, another in the side. He fell silently to the ground, smoldering. The other three were unable to escape the flaming trap and their cries rose to mindless shrieks before silence fell.

  The two lead invaders began firing wildly into the trees. Out of long habit, Lirak counted how long it took to reload their strange weapons. The fire on the net began to die down. The forest grew quiet again. Lirak backed out of his hiding place, Thorn following quietly. He circled back to his left, to get behind the invaders. He soon heard the heavy sound of a pair of boots crunching through the forest undergrowth. He pointed to his left and Thorn immediately began circling in that direction. He quietly circled to the right, until the two of them were flanking the invader. As he went past, Thorn and Lirak converged on him. At the last moment he turned toward Thorn, just as the big cat leaped at his shoulders. Lirak went for his knees. The invader tried to get his weapon around, but it was too late. He fell hard, his chest crushing his weapon as Thorn’s full weight landed on his back. He covered his head with his arms and began screaming. Lirak’s blade sliced easily through his armor and pierced his heart. Lirak and Thorn were up in an instant, melting back into the forest.

  Soon two invaders came crashing through the forest and found the dead man lying in a pool of blood. They looked around wildly, then stood back-to-back, and began moving back toward the other invaders, one walking forward, the other walking backwards. Lirak stepped from around a tree a few tens of strides away and his arrow caught the trailing invader in the eye before he could react. He fell heavily to the ground. The remaining invader turned, saw Lirak and Thorn, and immediately ran back toward the others, yelling as he ran.

  Lirak and Thorn again moved further into the forest, still circling around to get behind the group. He heard screams from the forest as other invaders fell to his men. He and Thorn killed one more before he decided the rest were now all huddled in the larger group, most likely afraid to move in any direction. He smiled grimly, pleased with how Jerok’s trap was working. He heard a signal from in front of him and returned the signal. Soon he and Patrik were moving forward together.

  The remaining invaders, twenty-two of them, were huddled together in a small clearing, standing in a circle with their weapons ready. The gray man was in the very center, his face bleeding above his eye. He still held the small stick. The men at the perimeter of the group were wild-eyed and sweating. One was repeating a phrase over and over.

  Lirak motioned to Patrik, and whispered a few quick words. Patrik nodded his head and moved back into the forest where he quickly moved around a few tens of strides to Lirak’s right. There he sent two quick arrows at the guards, one of which slumped heavily to the ground. As he did so, Lirak’s view of the gray man was unobstructed for a moment, and Lirak stepped around the tree and sent his arrow directly into the center of the gray man’s shadowed face, where it stuck as the gray man fell backwards, dropping the thin stick. As Lirak moved back behind the tree, several small arrows from the invaders cut the air where he had been standing just a moment before.

  This was too much for the remaining invaders, and suddenly five bolted from the group, running directly toward Lirak and Thorn. They ran in panic, not in order, and most dropped their bow-like weapons and drew their blades. Lirak motioned to Patrik, and then turned and ran ahead of them, easily outdistancing them in his light Dwon attire. Soon he turned and hid. As they ran past, he tripped the trailing invader. Patrik flew past him and soon another invader was down, while three more ran on, Thorn hot on their heels.

  By the time Patrik and Lirak had dispatched their victims, Thorn had tripped and mauled another, leaving two fleeing into the forest. Lirak finished off Thorn’s invader.

  “Let them go. It doesn’t hurt to have them spreading fear among their brothers,” Lirak told Patrik. “Besides, it’s time to deal with the rest.”

  With a shrug Patrik turned and the three of them began heading back to the clearing. By the time they got there, Lirak’s forces had dispatched all of the invaders. Lirak counted thirty-three bodies, including one in gray robes. Ignoring the rest, Lirak walked to the gray man’s body and with a sense of satisfaction, he reached down to finally retrieve one of the gray robes. His fingers touched the robe but felt nothing but the fine mesh of arrow-proof material. The “wand” proved to be nothing but a stick. Turning the body over, Lirak saw a pale face with brown hair and blue eyes.

  The gray man was a decoy.

  Lirak and Jerok walked side by side as they came into the Dwon camp. Lirak was pointing to the southwest and patting Jerok’s shoulder. Jerok seemed happy. The two of them walked over to the Hanorian group, where Dedrik was smoking his pipe sitting on an overturned log.

  “This is Jerok, my brother,” he said, introducing Jerok to Dedrik.

  “I am very pleased to meet you,” Dedrik said. “How did the hunt go?”

  “We killed thirty-seven of the invaders, including one of their gray men,” Jerok said. “It is an odd thing though. They had a man dressed in gray robes, but Lirak says he was not a ‘warlock’ as you call them.”

  “No, he was a decoy of some sort. But for what purpose I can’t guess,” Lirak said.

  “Indeed,” Dedrik mused. “That is passing strange. I have never heard of a fake warlock before.”

  “It is time to eat and talk,” Lirak said. “Come to my tent with me and we’ll have a chance to make our plans.”

  Lirak, Jerok, Chutan, Patrik and Mayrie met with Dedrik in Lirak’s tent. They ate freshly cooked venison with herbs from the forest. They drank cool water.

  Dedrik ate slowly, seeming to savor every bite.

  “This is good” he said, taking another bite of the roasted meat. “I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since I had fresh-killed venison roasted on a spit over a fire by people who know how to do it right,” he chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway, but it’s been a long time.”

  “Tell us again why you’re here,” Lirak said.

  Dedrik took a long breath. “Ahh, that smells good,” he said.

  Lirak looked at Dedrik with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps you can make us some seed-cakes tomorrow. Why are you here, and why are you in Hanoria in the first place?”

  “I am here to offer you the protection of Hanoria” Dedrik said, “just as I told you before you rushed to what I feared would be your certain death.”

  “We need no protection,” Jerok snorted. “We are the avengers, the killers of invaders. They need protection from us.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Dedrik asked Jerok. “Look at the camps they have by the wall. You have killed only a few of their number. They have not tried to kill you yet. But they will. We know that they are working on a plan to track you down and kill you all. This group you killed today will be followed now by a massive number. They are planning to encircle you and crush you as you try to escape.”

  “They’ve tried to kill us before,” Mayrie said.

  “You don’t understand,” Dedrik said. “There are…” he paused… “You don’t have a word for it… I’m not sure you can even understand it without the words. But I’ll try. You speak of tens and twenties. You understand “hundreds” but there is no word in your language for tens of hundreds. The word in Hanorian is ‘thousands’. There are over ten thousand invaders out there, with more arriving all the time. You have about a hundred or so from what I can tell. There are over a hundred invaders for every one of you. When they decide to root you out, you will have nowhere to hide. They will burn the forest down around you if necessary.�
��

  “Why would you come to tell us this and offer us protection?” Lirak asked.

  “Two reasons,” Dedrik said. “One, you have shown yourselves to be amazingly effective in fighting the invaders, and we don’t want to lose you, we want you to work with us. Two, when you are dead the invaders will be able to focus all their effort on Hanoria and we can’t stand long against them alone.”

  “You are not suggesting that our tiny band has been able to keep them from overrunning your wall, are you?” Jerok said.

  “Actually, it’s possible that you have done exactly that. They have had to commit a significant number of their soldiers to keep their supply lines open. But more importantly, they have lost warlocks, and every lost warlock is like a battalion of normal men in a siege.”

  “We’ll think about your offer,” Lirak said. “But we’re not ready to leave the forest. This is our forest; it is our way of life. Leaving the forest is the same as losing.”

  “In war sometimes you have to lose some to gain more,” Dedrik said. “This is a lesson great warriors learn and use to their advantage. The key to victory is in knowing which battles must be won, and which can be lost.”

  Dedrik reached into a pocket and pulled out a shiny object. “Keep this with you,” he said, handing it to Lirak. “If you are pressed, come to one of the gates in the wall and it will give you passage into Hanoria.”

  Lirak took it. “Before you leave can I speak to you alone?” he asked Dedrik.

  “Of course,” Dedrik said. “It’s too late for us to head back now anyway, so we’ll be camping here if that’s okay with you.”

  Lirak nodded absently. Then he told the others “I need to speak with Dedrik alone.” One by one they filed out, Mayrie the last to go. She squeezed his arm as she passed him.

  Alone with Dedrik, Lirak motioned for him to sit down.

  “I need to understand my spirit-dreams” he said.

  Dedrik’s eyebrow rose. “Are you having spirit dreams?”