by D. A. Stone
Goridai.
She wondered which of their dragons had caused the wounds. Draxakis perhaps? Whichever one it was, she wished it had finished the kill.
The ripples of the black dragon’s disturbance finally reached them, and the water lapped softly against the shoreline. A shiver danced up her spine and Natalia realized she was still naked. Grabbing their belongings, they pulled Argos to his feet and moved back into the darkness of the trees. Karin returned to untie a grateful Dusty and brought her into the woods, running a hand down her side and calming her with a soft tone.
Natalia was pulling her boots on, the rest of her clothes wet and clingy against her skin. She was still shaking.
“Do you think it saw us?” Karin asked in a quivering voice.
“Perhaps in the way a lion sees a beetle, but it didn’t appear to care much.”
Karin hugged herself nervously, rubbing her arms. “It looked to be wounded, but…I’ve never seen anything so large.”
“Nor I. We should leave this place at once. There could be other dragons arriving with it, or soldiers. This may not have been the wisest destination for us. Everyone needs water, and there’s little in the way of it in any direction except here.”
“We‘ll slip away quietly. No one will even know we passed by,” Karin whispered as she scratched Dusty’s neck; her words meant to sound calming but instead had the opposite effect. She glanced back through the trees to the lake. “I’ll not be sleeping well tonight, no matter where it is we make camp.”
“There will be no rest tonight,” Natalia told her, standing upright. “We move through the dark until dawn. We’ll take it slowly and carefully, but I think it best if we don’t stop until reaching the Gambit.”
Karin seemed to breathe a little easier. “That’s fine by me.”
***
The morning mist enveloped them. Natalia didn’t know if it was the coming winter mixing with the heat of daylight that made the forest air so thick and damp, but visibility was more than limited. One could toss a stone in any direction and the mist would swallow it up and burp out the muted sound of wherever it landed. Natalia’s exposed ears and hands were red with cold and her breath could be seen in the air, but she figured that would slip away as morning chill turned to afternoon warmth. It was growing colder each day, though; that much was noticeable.
She kept to what she thought was north, but truthfully could’ve been heading in any direction, so murky and disorienting the forest was.
Cracks and snaps of the woods wrapped around them to occasionally break the quiet tension, hidden from sight behind misty curtains of gray. Birds did not sing and the wind did not rustle the tree branches. The forest watched and waited.
Natalia was not at ease in these northern woods. The land was rocky and sharp, the trees too tall and narrow. And ever upwards it seemed to go, each step a little higher than the last. The elevation was taking its toll on her as well. The air was thinner, making her feel as though she was breathing through an old smoker’s pipe.
She pressed on, limbs tired, heart full of worry.
They had traveled through the night without much incident. Dusty had taken a rough stumble over an exposed oak root early on, but the steadfast beast had righted herself at the last moment, front legs scrambling for footing until finally regaining control. Natalia’s respect for the mare had grown with each hour of travel. She had saved all of their lives, that mount. No doubt whatsoever.
“Shall we take a brief rest?” Karin asked from behind, weary from lack of sleep.
“No,” Natalia said simply, her tone leaving little room for debate.
The mist thinned but lingered, clinging to small depressions and dells they passed like stubborn patches of snow that refused let an approaching spring send it to oblivion. It still hung full in the distance, not letting her see the mountains to make sure they were on the right path. They traveled for another two hours.
She thought of the black dragon they’d seen at Landis Lake—larger than any living thing her eyes had ever beheld. Something in the creature had moved a piece of her, an important piece that sat in front of her heart and tried to protect her as a plate of armor might, tried to tell her that Amoria could not be defeated, that her husband could not be dead.
But everywhere she looked, everything she had seen, was all the result of that which she secretly hoped was untrue.
If an unknown dragon like that could drink from an Amorian lake, then Draxakis was truly gone. And if the great dragon king was no more, then so was the army. And if the army was destroyed, what of the man who championed it? What of her husband?
Amorians fight to the end. Always.
She walked on, thankful of having Karin at her back so the tears could fall unnoticed.
A hiss from above startled her. She stopped, fearing an angry mountain cat had caught wind of them and made to claim an easy meal. Such attacks were considered rare, but they had been known to happen if game was scarce or the animal sick or injured. Her knife was in her hands, although she couldn’t remember pulling it and had even less of an idea what could be done with it. Her bow would’ve been a better choice, but it was unstrung and strapped to one of their saddlebags, far out of reach.
She looked above to the trees, scanning the branches for the tan fur of the big cats still calling these woods home, but what she saw startled her even more.
There were two men twenty feet above, sitting on tree branches as easily as benches in a tavern. Bows bent and held ready, they were cloaked in brown, all but hidden amidst the dry leaves.
“That’s far enough, love,” one man said.
Natalia looked up, startled at first but regaining her composure. Their words were spoken quickly and smoothly, but they were of a familiar inflection. Amorians perhaps, but it was too soon to be sure. They would be watching these woods, wouldn’t they?
“Point those in another direction,” she ordered, waving her blade at them, trying fiercely to come off calm and indifferent. “We’ve not traveled all this way to be struck down by tree-climbing fools!”
They relaxed their bows, glancing at each other with furrowed brows. “Tree-climbing fools?” the second man asked.
“This is Natalia Baelik,” Karin scolded them, her voice ringing through the forest with powerful authority. “She is the wife of First Sword Kreiden Baelik, Champion to King Healianos of Amoria, and you will address her with the respect she deserves!”
Natalia closed her eyes and flinched. Karin always had the best of intentions at heart, but deception was not in her repertoire. Even with the capital behind them, they were in a war-ravaged land and the enemy could be anywhere. Traveling under an alias would’ve been the best route.
The two archers didn’t seem to care overly about her position in Amorian society. They were arguing in soft murmurs, with one of the two periodically jerking a finger in their direction. The first tuned out of the conversation to stare at Karin. From that distance Natalia couldn’t exactly make out his facial expression, but she found herself growing increasingly irritated with the two and thought about pressing onwards, archers or not.
She suddenly realized the archer was staring at the man held in place by her handmaiden.
“Argos?” he asked doubtfully. “Have you got a man named Argos with you?”
“Yes,” Natalia told him, albeit with more than a bit of reluctance. Each moment that passed solidified her first instinct that these were Amorians above her, but still she was wary. “He is Argos Vantric of Orantak, Corda, and the king. He is sick and…”
Before she could even finish, the archers unstrung their bows and looped them over their shoulders, launching into motion so fast it was startling.
She was taken aback at how nimbly the two moved down from their perch, landing on the forest floor before them in heartbeats. Dressed top to bottom in green and cloaked in brown, once they pulled their hoods back she noticed they weren’t men at all, but boys. Both young and fresh of face, one had a thick b
unch of blond hair at his crown and the other’s was close-cropped and dark. While they were tall and athletically built, she estimated their age at fifteen, maybe sixteen, but not much older than that.
They could be Amorian students, she suddenly realized. But what would students be doing out here? She had hoped to find men in these woods, not young boys.
“So, you had a guide,” the blond one said, looking to the wounded warrior. He tilted his head back and whistled, the sound of it stabbing through the quiet woods.
“Is he dead?” asked the dark-haired youth, approaching Argos. “He looks dead.”
Karin fumbled at her hip for her sword, pulling it out and forcing him back a step.
“You’ll keep your distance from us, thank you very much,” she said curtly, struggling to balance Argos, the weapon, and Dusty’s reins, who by now had begun to spin around in a slow circle.
The youth raised his hands and smiled. Natalia noticed the short sword sheathed at his hip beneath the brown cloak. Grip bound in tight leather, it boasted a dragon-embossed brass pommel and matching wrist guard. Kreiden had many like it hanging in their armory.
“It’s all right, Karin,” she said, seeing the weapons as confirmation. “They’re Amorians.”
The blond one approached the mount and carefully slid Argos from the saddle. She feared they’d both collapse from the weight of him, but the youth laid him down with gentle strength.
He checked Argos’s eyes, spreading them open before feeling for a pulse. The boy carefully lifted the crusted tunic, seeing the filthy bandages bloodstained and torn. The smell of rotting flesh was overpowering, but he made no mention of it.
“It happened six days ago,” she told him. “He was stabbed with a poisoned blade.”
“He should be dead,” the blond one said. “Did you happen to bring the weapon that did this?”
“Did I…No, of course I didn’t!” Had he really asked if she’d brought the weapon that had almost killed him? And still might kill him? “Why would I ever…”
“Kirig?” Argos asked weakly, his good hand reaching up to the boy.
The blond youth took his outstretched hand. “Close enough,” he answered.
Three other youngsters approached them, stepping from the woods as if they’d been there all along. Two carried tall spears, and the third was a large boy with a burlap sack over one shoulder. All were dressed and armed in a similar manner: hooded brown cloaks, worn knee-high boots of leather, and short swords at the hip.
“New arrivals!” the tallest of the three exclaimed with a great smile, arms spread wide. His excitement vanished when he saw Argos. “Oh.”
The blond boy, Kirig, stood up, with the other students moving in close and eyeing him carefully. They were waiting for him to speak.
“Larkin, take the saddle and our guests back to camp,” he instructed. “Vextis, you’re on the mount. Sweep the tracks as far back as makes you comfortable.”
“Sorry, my lady,” the tall Larkin apologized to Karin, dropping his sack and raising a hand up to her. “But you’re going to have to step down now. We’ll take good care of her, you have my word.”
“What? Why?”
“Jorn and I’ll take Argos up,” Kirig continued. “Orrik, you double-time it back to camp. Tell Stradlin we have a poisoned wound that’s been festering for six days on its way. And get some more boys headed down with a stretcher. We’ll be taking the western ridge up, then hooking through the cove. They can meet us anywhere along the ascent.”
Orrik nodded his head and turned, running off to the steep incline that gradually revealed itself as the fog continued to disperse.
“Orrik!” the slim boy who had arrived with the other three called out. Orrik turned and caught the spear lofted to him. Gripping one in each hand, he raced off.
“Some of the boys are running exercises down the southern face,” the other archer put in. “They might already have the ropes set up for him, if we’re lucky.”
“Excuse me,” Natalia tried to interrupt.
“I don’t think we have the time,” Kirig said. “We‘re going to have to hump him up there.”
Karin stepped down from Dusty’s saddle. “I still don’t see why I have to--”
Larkin drew a knife and swiftly cut the saddle from the horse, which slid off her back and crashed to the dirt, supply bags and all.
“Hey!” Karin cried, disbelief on her face.
“Again, I apologize,” he said earnestly, pulling the bridle over the horse’s head and removing the bit.
Before she knew what was happening, the slim boy had vaulted onto Dusty bareback and heeled her into a gallop down the slope they had climbed all morning, his brown cloak billowing behind. They were out of sight in moments.
“What are you doing?!” Natalia seethed.
Larkin picked up their supplies and swung the heavy saddle onto his back.
The two boys they’d first met in the tree lifted Argos between them and took off up the slope.
“Wait!” she cried, confused by everything that had happened the last few minutes. “What is going on? Where are you going with Argos? And why did you take our horse?”
“No horse can go where you’re heading,” Larkin told them. “Even with a mount as fine and steady as yours.”
“Kirig!” she yelled, taking a step after the two boys.
“His name’s not Kirig,” Larkin said, slowing her to a halt. He set off then at a brisk pace up the hill past her, not burdened at all by the bulk he carried over one shoulder.
“What?” she shot back at him. “He said his name was Kirig. That’s what Argos called him.”
“His name is Draz. Kirig is what his older brother goes by.” He glanced back at the two women, craning to see them over his load. “And you should stay with me. They’ll move faster without you anyway. You can see your man when we get back to camp.”
She looked up the slope, and the two boys had indeed already carried Argos a great distance away. By the look of their pace she’d be in need of a horse to catch them, and that option had galloped away from her a minute ago.
“Will Kirig be at the camp too?” she asked crassly, crossing her arms.
“Doubt it,” Larkin told her, moving up the hill. “He was at Goridai, fighting with your husband.”
***
The fog had been swept away by the morning sun, but there was still a chill in the air. Natalia gazed up the steep rise of rock and soil until it burst upward in a vast mountain wall, gray and sharp and menacing even in the daylight. It hurt her neck to stare at its tremendous height, rising up to fade into the sky with the clouds. She couldn’t even see its peak from where they stood. They marched on, the Gambit growing ever larger.
The further they climbed toward the base of the mountain, the more the land to their left plummeted until it turned into a cliff’s rim that dropped deep below. She kept her distance from the edge and continued, stopping occasionally to allow a breathless Karin time to catch up. Larkin, too, would pause and wait for them, although it wasn’t for apparent lack of strength or stamina. The climb and burden on his back looked to strain him not at all.
He would smile as he waited and seemed a warm and honest boy. She found herself growing less irritated as they climbed, for whatever that was worth.
A small clearing opened at the foot of the mountain. Tall grass grew sparsely in the rock-strewn soil and great boulders were cast about the area like crumbs abandoned by the titanic mountain. A dark fissure split the rock open, extending to the base as an open wound might.
Natalia paused to look up. She could see tiny figures moving against the sheer mountain face, hundreds of feet above.
There were people up there, ten or twelve of them, scaling the side of mountain, harnessed to slender ropes. Slowly they climbed, reaching heights that made her lightheaded. The sight stole her breath.
“Come now, honored guests,” Larkin called out as he approached the tall crack, still hauling the saddle and their
bags. More spear-wielding youths in brown cloaks appeared at the foot of the mountain, moving to assist the boy with their gear.
“You’ve traveled a great distance to come to us.” Larkin stopped to face the women as they approached, his smile beaming. “Allow me be the first to welcome you to the Gambit.”
Natalia stopped walking suddenly, her legs turning stiff. Taking a few trembling steps back, she moved to sit on a patch of grass. The last days had drained her so much that she was forced to sit for a moment; she couldn’t have gone on even if she had wanted to. The exhaustion enveloped her like a flood. Never in her life had she felt so tired.
Larkin motioned his boys back a ways, giving them some space. Karin arrived to sit beside her, though neither spoke.
The mountain they had struggled to reach was before them, so close Natalia could almost reach out and slide her hands across the rough stone. This was a proving ground for the academies, a place where youths would come to strengthen their bodies, test their nerve, and face down their fears. An Amorian rock nestled deep within the Amorian north.
Now it was to be a stronghold, a safe haven, a tiny flame against the growing darkness.
“I think you’ve done it, Princess Natalia,” Karin soon told her, neck bent to gaze up at the mountain’s height. “You brought us here. You saved us.”
She tried to shake her head, to deny her handmaiden’s words, but her voice had vanished.
This was not her doing, of that she was certain. This had been her husband’s refuge, his shelter from the black memories of his past. It was Kreiden’s love that saw them clear of the carnage. It was his love that had sent the note ordering her to flee, it was his love that had asked Argos to watch over her while he was gone, and it was his love that had led them to this sacred place.
This was her husband’s land, and even now she could feel him here. More here than anywhere else over the last few days, their home included.
What was to come next, she did not know, but they would be safe for a time at least.
Karin climbed to her feet with a moan. “Rise,” she said, extending her hands. “Let us conquer this final hindrance. We must check on Argos, after all. Who knows what sort of chaos he’ll stir up if he wakes and we’re not by his side.”