Nemeila briefed Parlan on what had happened on the cliff top and explained how Tyler and the girl they had rescued along the way had been taken prisoner.
“Do you have reason to believe they are still alive?” asked Parlan. “I pray so. I cannot communicate with Tyler without Aurek picking up on my thoughts. I don’t think he will kill Tyler or the girl until he is ready to leave this land. He will probably use them to draw me in if he senses I am still alive. He wants my death very badly, to avenge himself for a perceived injustice that happened a long time ago.”
“We plan to scuttle his ships,” said Parlan. “If we fail in our attack against his army, the hostages might still have a chance of survival if there is no fleet to transport them. But we will need a miracle against such odds.”
“Well, you never know,” she shrugged her shoulders, “the gods might look kindly upon you, if you’ve behaved yourself recently.”
Parlan remembered the stolen kiss, and had the decency to blush.
With the horses fresh after their rest, Parlan called his worryingly small band of men to mount up. An outrider had reported that the wagons were kicking up minor dust storms no more than five leagues ahead. Parlan decided to skirt round the wagons and ride straight for the coast to follow the strategy of disabling the ships, thus stranding Aurek and his men and their prisoners on dry land. They accomplished the detour in good time, and it was only a little after midday when they saw the five ships bobbing at anchor under a weak sun, a few hundred yards out in the calmer deep blue waters of the bay.
“How do we reach the ships?” said one of the men. “There is not a man here who can swim.”
“I have thought about that,” said Parlan, slightly cockily. “Each of you have a water skin, empty the contents, blow them up with the air in your lungs, and replace the cork tightly. They’ll stop you going to the bottom, providing you hold on firmly and kick your legs.” He turned to Nemeila. “If we should fail, you must flee back to the castle and tell them what we intended here. Your fight with this madman will be at an end. You cannot confront him alone and survive, and I don’t want your death on my conscience.”
Nemeila nodded obediently, but aware in her heart that she could not abandon Tyler and Bekka to the mercy of a man who killed purely for the pleasure of watching a man suffer. The men scrambled down the cliff-face onto the wave-ruffled, soft golden sand of the bay, and hastily tore off their outer garments. Nemeila remained, watching their activities, from her vantage point. The men below divided themselves into five groups of ten, and after some heated discussion, each group settled their attention on one of the ships. “Kick your feet below the surface,” advised Parlan, “if they have a Watch and they notice any disturbance caused by splashing feet, a good marksman will be able to pick us off one by one. Sitting ducks are so called that for a reason! You’re all brave men, good luck and may the Gods speed you.”
They waded silently out into the bay, clutching their floats and shivering in the icy water. They folded themselves round the air filled bags, each aware that death was a lot colder than this frigid environment. As the men started to swim, Nemeila turned back to where Sox pawed at the ground, capturing the other horses’ attention with his over-exaggerated story of the dangers he’d faced on this journey so far. She patted his neck distractedly, before crossing the clearing to slump, with a heavy heart, on the stump of a fallen tree.
Amber wandered over, stroking reassuringly at her leg with one paw. “It’s no good,” she muttered, caressing a silken ear, “I cannot wait idly here while they scuttle those ships. Tyler and the girl will be killed long before Aurek leaves these shores. He will take all our lives, and enjoy doing so for defeating him at the castle. My death is especially important to him, because I am my mother’s daughter.”
Amber spun suddenly and hared off across the Meadow. Out of sight, he gazed longingly towards the distant smoky hills, splitting the peace of the moment with a spectral howl. It echoed supernaturally in the surrounding silence and, ears cocked and tongue lolling from his mouth, he stood like a statue, as though waiting for an answer.
High above the waiting wolf, a winged warrior circled and glided on currents of warmer air in the grey sky, its sharp eyesight picking out the animal in the clearing. It began a swooping descent, at the last moment it drew back its wings and extended its talons to land heavily, but gracefully, no more than a few feet from Amber. The eagle’s wingspan was over six feet and its beak, strong and vicious, clacked loudly in challenge, just in case the silly beast was considering an attack. The wolf smiled disarmingly as it ambled over to the eagle, which in turn fluffed its feathers as it rearranged its wings. It finally closed its beak, as it allowed Amber to sniff its breast. This was one of the predators he had feared in crossing the open ground between the two forests, but now he had no choice but to risk talon and beak. Amber woofed softly at the eagle, then turning his head, eyed the place where Nemeila rested. “My mistress needs both our help,” he said in a bark-cum-animal speak. “She saved your life when the spider was about to take it and the one she has to face, not far from here, will kill her if we do not aid her.”
“She seems to be kind, for a human, that much I grant you. It is true, without her help I would now be dead. I will fly along with you and help if I can. If you lead the way, I will follow.”
Amber turned and walked away, and then looking over his shoulder huffed at the eagle again and raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Come on feathers,’ he thought, ‘if we don’t hurry, the girl will go on alone.’
The eagle took to the air and followed the four-legged creature back across the Meadow.
With a smug expression on his face, Amber ran to Nemeila’s side, alerting her to company just as the golden eagle plopped down in front of them. She fondled Amber’s ear, who thought, Much more of this and they’ll be worn away, then hesitantly fingered the silky plumage of the new arrival. “If you have come to help us, your timing is excellent,” she said, tracing the pattern of his feathered wing. “With you in the sky and Amber on the ground, we just might have the advantage we need to rescue my friends. It’s pointless waiting for the king to return, I must go now, are you coming, guys?” The eagle’s sudden screech of acquiescence made her jump, and she was pleased to see that the fur on Amber’s tail had bushed out in alarm too. She removed a scroll of parchment from the saddlebag on Parlan’s horse, and using a twig tipped with moistened soil, she wrote him a brief message. To ensure he wouldn’t miss it on his return, she pinned it carefully to his saddle. After several unsuccessful attempts to remount Sox, the horse gave an exasperated sigh and lifted his foreleg for her, as before. “I never have this trouble with my master,” he mumbled as she urged him forward.
Being late in the day, the overcast sky made the path through the forest darker than ever. She looked around with foreboding, but if she waited, Parlan might catch up to her, and in his eagerness to attack at the first opportunity would foil her rescue attempt, and possibly cost her friends their lives. Amber frisked on ahead with her following, ducking often to miss the dangerously low branches overhanging the trail. But Sox was sure-footed, and followed in Amber’s paw prints without slipping or stumbling on the damp stones. By the early hours of the morning, they had reached a ridge overlooking Aurek’s camp. She had been comforted and reassured by the shadow of the eagle as it soared overhead, and when it perched on a low branch beside her, she greeted it by running her hand over its head and neck.
Amber grinned evilly to himself, “Never mind a golden eagle, with all the stroking and fondling our mistress likes to do, you’ll soon be a bald eagle!” He twitched his ears to make sure he still had some fur on them.
Due to his spectacularly bright colouring, Nemeila decided to call him Goldie. As she softly spoke the name, to her amusement and pleasure, the eagle seemed to respond knowingly. Now, with two of the swiftest predators in the land at her side, how could she lose?
Aurek surfaced from the depths of a troubled sleep with
a start. It was still dark, most of his men and the captives were still sleeping, some dreaming fitfully and some snoring fluidly. The Watch, however, remained alert; aware that if their new commander caught them dozing, their dreams would be the last they dreamed this side of Heaven - or Hell!
In his sleep, Aurek had encountered the girl, which meant only one thing: the insect lived. He had seen her wandering a nocturnal forest, but was unable to divine where or how far away. He strode to where his second in command lay twitching in his sleep; the second boot in the ribs brought the man fully awake, clutching his side in pain and ready for a fight, until he recognised his leader standing over him.
“The girl you managed to let escape still lives,” he snarled, “make sure that the brats you hold are visible to approaching riders. Their annoying little friend may be along soon, I would hate her to ride past, thinking they were not here.”
The man saluted, and still half bent over his throbbing ribs, he made his way towards the front wagon where Tyler and Bekka were securely lashed. On the way he woke two of the men who had been with him, and booted them awake out of spite. They were as much to blame for the wretched girl falling over the cliff so they could damn well share his pain. He instructed the two luckless guards to ensure that the captives were tied fast and in full view of the camp.
From her lofty position, Nemeila easily spotted the wagon containing Tyler and Bekka. She realised that guards had been posted the whole length of the wagon train, so there was no way that she could sneak up on them unseen. Aurek had baited the trap well, all he had to do was bide his time and wait for her to attempt some foolhardy rescue.
It took a moment before a plan came into her mind; it was a risk, but she suddenly realised what ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ meant. She inched over to Goldie’s perch, and raised her arm to provide a stepping-stone to her shoulder. She gasped at the eagle’s weight, but managed to remain upright. Praying that he wouldn’t wriggle around and cause her to drop him, she returned to her lookout post and pointed out the wagon in question to the bird.
Removing a dagger from her belt, she held it up to Goldie. “Take this dagger and drop it at the feet of those two people,” she murmured, feeling Amber’s eyes on her in faint ridicule as she chatted away to the bird. “But if those men in the tree line see you, they will try to shoot you down. Do you think you can do that? Oh lord, do you even understand me?”
Goldie’s answer was to clamp his beak firmly round the hilt of the dagger, and hopping gracefully, for his size, to the ground, he spread his vast wings, leapt upward to get airborne and was gone. She watched in wonder as he soared higher, a few flaps of his mighty wings and he was no more than a tiny looping shadow against the night.
As he circled, Goldie established the men’s positions. They were all facing outward from the wagons, presumably not expecting an attack from within or from above, far enough away for him to accomplish his task unseen. A convenient cloud had just shimmied across the moon, depriving the world of light and, therefore, shadow. He began his swooping decent towards his given target, flying parallel to the wagons, above the guards’ line of vision, but by the time he reached the wagon housing Tyler and Bekka, they could have reached up a hand and brushed his silken plumage. His gliding flight had been made in total silence, and his sudden appearance before them shocked Tyler and Bekka into screams of terror, so it was extremely lucky their gags stifled their otherwise shrill cries. Goldie opened his beak and the dagger plunged, to land point first into the wooden boards, where it shivered into stillness. As Goldie spiralled upwards into the inky sky, Tyler and Bekka stared at each other, white-faced and quaking with fright. The dagger had landed too far out of Tyler’s reach, but if Bekka could slide down the rough stake, he thought it might be within her fingertip range. He nodded downward several times with his head, trying to indicate his plan. Suddenly her eyes lit up in understanding and she began to slide her bound hands down the stake. She winced in pain as the rough wood splintered and pierced her flesh, but she pressed on, knowing that if they didn’t escape now, they would either die in some hideous manner, or spend the rest of their lives enslaved on foreign shores. Finally, as she wrenched her hands down far enough to allow her to squat, she found the blade within her grasp. Wrenching it free from the boards, she sawed through the rope that hobbled her legs, and now, having more flexibility to manoeuvre her body, she managed to turn the blade so she could swipe it back and forth across the rope holding her hands. She rubbed at the tender weals on her wrists, trying to ease the soreness, before freeing Tyler. His immediate thought was of Nemeila, for only she could have sent such an emissary to their rescue.
They cautiously peered about them in the darkness, ensuring that the men on watch had not been alerted by their efforts to free themselves. Tyler slipped silently over the tailgate, and then turned to helped Bekka down.
“How are we going to get past those men?” whispered Bekka, fearfully.
“The shadows are deeper further down by the taller wagons. If we can make it there safely we stand a better chance of evading the guards and seeking shelter in the trees.”
The young girl eyed him, totally unconvinced.
“Trust me, the meat on our table didn’t always come from the market, and a poacher is only as good as his capacity for silence and sneaking up on things.”
Locating the spot where the dense concealing shrubbery grew closest to the camp, Tyler took Bekka’s small cold hand into his own to reassure her. He selected a pebble and tossed it a little ahead of the nearest guard. At first the man, more interested in cleaning his fingernails with his dagger, took no notice, but the second small kafuffle drew his attention. He sighed mournfully at being disturbed while taking care of his personal hygiene, but nevertheless slouched off towards the trees, peering into the darkness to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. As he inched forward, Tyler clasped Bekka’s hand firmly to prevent her lagging behind, and together they crept towards the brush. Once hidden from sight, they then slipped stealthily towards the shadier tree line, and the man, satisfied there were no spies creeping up on his guard-post, returned to his original position. Once they were lost from view within the safety of the dense foliage, they scrambled up the hill to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the wagons. In the shadows, two yellow eyes glinting like curious stars peered out at the two figures straggling towards them. Amber stepped out stiff-legged before the two fugitives, halting Tyler abruptly in his tracks. He pulled Bekka to his side to prevent her screaming with fear at being confronted by a wolf.
“If Fang is here, then his mistress is here too,” he chuckled reassuringly for the girl’s sake, “come on, he won’t harm us.”
“Fang indeed. I’ll show that boy a fang or two one day!” Amber mumbled as he made his way back through the undergrowth with Tyler and Bekka following. The thorny bushes made their task more difficult, springing back in their faces as they shouldered their way deeper into the tree line. When they finally crested the hill, an excited, grinning Nemeila was there to greet them.
“I thought you were dead,” said Tyler, shakily, hugging her close. “Your body lay so still and contorted at the foot of the cliff. Even Aurek’s goons were convinced you’d been killed by the fall.”
“The thick snow and a friendly bush cushioned my fall. Amber found me and saved my life by sharing his body heat with me during the night. Come and meet the newest member of my family.”
Amber fluffed out his tail with pride at her words as she led them to where Goldie perched restlessly on a branch. Much to the wolf’s amusement at the eagle’s discomfiture, more feather stroking ensued as she introduced the bird.
“He nearly gave us a heart attack,” yelped Tyler, “it was a good job Aurek had gagged us, or we’d have yelled ourselves senseless.”
“We freed him from a giant spiders’ web, and now he seems to have pledged his services in our fight against Aurek. We also saved a baby dragon from a trap some cruel person
had set in the forest.”
“You’ve been busy since our capture!” Tyler glanced down at Bekka and raised his eyebrows comically to make her giggle. “But a dragon, you say?” Tyler queried. “No one has seen a dragon for over four decades. There are creatures that resemble dragons, giant lizards, for instance, I think maybe it was probably one of those.” Nemeila put her hands on her hips, ready to argue her case. “Well, it certainly looked like a dragon; it even had tiny leathery wings and snorted out nostrils full of smoke when it got agitated, really stinky smoke too, but it didn’t breathe fire.” She could see Tyler didn’t believe her, so she let the matter drop. She was too pleased to see him again alive and well, to start a proper row. “Here,” she said, by way of changing the subject, “I found your sword.” “Now there’s a welcome sight,” his eyes lit up with pleasure, “I will have need of this when the battle comes to us - or we go to it!” “Parlan and his men aren’t too far away,” she said, “I left them at the coast, swimming across the bay to scuttle Aurek’s ships. If they were successful, they should join us later in the day, if they follow the prints we left behind for them. All we can do now is await the outcome, and pray.”
Parlan collapsed panting with exertion onto the wave-pocked sand alongside the rest of his equally exhausted men. They had never been so cold, shivering uncontrollably as they retrieved their clothing and dressed hurriedly, stamping their feet and banging their arms against their sides in an attempt to get warm. The raid had gone entirely as planned; the five ships were currently sinking against the skyline, leaving Aurek no way to leave their land, unless he managed to commandeer another fleet. There had been twenty-three young women confined in the hold of one vessel, which had been rescued, and were now busy drying their clothes under the watchful and interested eyes of Parlan’s army. Four of the ships had been unmanned, the men who had been charged with keeping watch had disobeyed orders for a game of dice on the fifth ship, believing themselves perfectly safe bobbing at anchor. Parlan’s party had found the game of dice in progress, but the gamblers refused to surrender and fought to the last man. Parlan’s men had all survived, and mostly unharmed, except for one unfortunate who sported a large purpling lump on his forehead, received when the stone dice cup had been lobbed at him. Apart from a throbbing headache, and not a little embarrassment at the cause of his wound, he was still able to fight. Clothed and rested, Parlan followed his men, as they struggled up the sloping cliff; a frown of concentration creased his forehead, as he considered how and where he could ambush Aurek and his band of murderous ruffians. Karlos was the first to reach the hobbled horses, and ran back towards his king, waving a scrap of parchment. “Sire, the girl and her wolf have gone. She left this pinned to your saddle.”
The Wolf and the Sorceress Page 27