Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  “Son-or’a-jym, Mister Caroll,” Seedle exclaimed, “are you one of those healing priests; a sword-swinging healing priest?”

  As Fhascully bound the leg Caroll responded, “A priest I am not, nor honored cleric or humble monk. But, subject to patient guidance of Master Logan, I have gleaned some minute measure of lesser healing; even so, scarcely sufficient to lend paltry aide.”

  Jha’Ley declared, “But sufficient this evening in great manner. Sergeant, can you make the rise yonder? We need more distance, and with fortune, the point may lend us a view of our perimeter and allow us better position of defense.”

  “Aye, commodore. Lead the way and I shall follow.”

  Fhascully and Seedle assisted the still reluctant Dessi to his feet, then Fhascully slipped his head under the wounded man’s shoulder. Wryly, Seedle suggested, “Mayhap the butcher lend support to the Marine meat until it is properly prepared for consumption?”

  Seedle chuckled as Dessi passed him a dark scowl. It was becoming obvious there was something between Dessi and Fhascully, something which had just risen up, or seemed to. But this was not the place to explore the issue.

  Jha’Ley took the lead with Caroll brining up the rear. The point was perhaps a mile away in actual distance, but there was much winding in the path they were taking and it was all a steep incline. Three hours it took for the men to reach the peak. But once there, they all had to stop and stare.

  Set back from a flat area with an overlook, there was a ruin. Well, perhaps a ruin would not be the best word, it was an old, old twenty by thirty-foot two-level structure made of hewn logs. A quick survey showed it had not been occupied by humans in a really long time. The remains of a drawing well structure was to one side, as well as a spacious area where vegetables may have once been grown.

  From the ridge, a game trail wound around to the north toward higher mountains. But only forty rods or so along the trail was a natural tower rising high into the sky. As the men gazed upon it, it seemed to have a pyre of logs arranged on top as if to be used as a signal. A stair casing was built around the tower reaching to the top.

  Seedle commented, “I think I would not wish to climb those boards. It looks to be quite old.”

  Jha’Ley was showing a relieved and pleased smile, “This is one of the landmarks given me. Our course is perhaps, four days more.”

  He studied the top of the tower, then around their surroundings and added, “From the top, one can survey the whole perimeter for as far as a scope can see. The fire up there can be seen for miles.”

  Dessi asked, “Commodore? Are you mindful of climbing that hulk? It does not appear to be safe. It must be a bit more than our main-mast in height.” He nodded at the structure emphatically, “T’would be a most jarring fall.”

  Jha’Ley winced, “Yes, Sergeant Dessi, I am of so mind.” He looked back down their trail, “But it does not seem to be a good thing to do at the time. Perhaps on the return jaunt.”

  Seedle raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

  From their new vantage point, as far as they could see were the most beautiful mountains and rock formations they had ever imagined. Before them was a land without any sign of modern civilization, town, village, or even campfire smoke.

  At this elevation the air had thinned dramatically, the trees were much shorter and vegetation was sparse. Against the horizon they could see a pair of great eagles soaring in majesty. With telescope they could see a huge species of deer grazing undisturbed beside a crystal clear lake.

  The ocean could not be seen, they were so far inland. But in many places they could view clouds below them. To the east Jha’Ley cast his gaze, where a magnificent range of mountains lay and rose even higher, many of which were capped with snow.

  He pointed, “In this direction we must go.” He looked to his companions, “But first, we will rest, attempt to refresh ourselves, and try to stay away from the damned rocks.”

  ___________________________

  A full day and night was spent on the ridge. The structure was dank from having been closed for so long, but there was ventilation from the unsealed windows. The accommodations were sparse, and the chimney clogged, so they made a small fire outside for cooking. Nor did they wish to cause smoke from the fireplace and alert any more undesirables than absolutely necessary.

  Sharp was the watch, but no attack was received. Seedle’s comment stood well for all, however, “It just feels as if we are being intently observed, every moment, even when I take a piss.”

  Dessi replied, “Of a surety. It is well we brought adequate gear for the cold. Commodore, would you have an idea of how high we may be?”

  Jha’Ley glanced at him while holding a mug of hot tea. Blandly he remarked, “Really high.”

  Seedle chuckled. The petty officer seemed to find something to joke or laugh about at all times. Granted, he was very good at what he did, and was an excellent choice as an exploration team member, but Jha’Ley also enjoyed his brand of humor.

  Caroll offered, “These mountains favor those of my homeland. I would surmise our position about seven thousand feet.”

  Fhascully added, “Seven thousand would be my thought, as well. Look at this pair of beetles I have found,” he was carrying a stick he had brought into the dwelling, “scarabno’caphious, I think.” He glanced about his companions, “They are only found in elevations between seven and nine thousand feet. An interesting fact is they are believed to favor carrion left by various drakes and similar …”

  “Drakes …” Dessi interrupted. Everyone was paying attention, now. “… You mean, as in dragons?”

  “Precisely, although a drake is not truly a dragon, not those of the draconous-furnosauris classification, in any case. But look here at this specimen. The legs are especially adept for …”

  Dessi was rolling his eyes back and leaning into the wall, he was resting against. Seedle muttered, “Dragons, oh joy.”

  Caroll, on the other hand, took interest in Fhascully’s dissertation and listened in rapt attention.

  Upon morning, after as much rest as he could muster, Caroll put his hands once more to Dessi’s leg and was able to advance the healing a bit more.

  After examining the wound, Fhascully affirmed, “Commodore, it is well closed and mending nicely. This elevation is of no detriment, as well, as infection is most unlikely. With a fair binding the sergeant should do well … as long …” he glared at the Marine, “… as he does not over do it. A cane or crutch would be in order.”

  Seedle brandished an old tool handle he had been whittling on, “This is not a back-scratch I have been giving alteration to.”

  As they left, Jha’Ley gave the tower a long, wistful look.

  The trail followed closely to cliff side, ever winding and leading deeper, ever deeper into what could be described as a mountain paradise. The visage of soaring eagles was not rare, and more than once they came upon sight of what are often called mountain sheep.

  Fhascully was again like a child in a vast play box. He could not walk one hundred feet without finding something of interest. At their altitude, he also frequently resorted to his telescope.

  Telescoping spyglasses were not uncommon in the sailing community, but as a rule, they allowed vision of three to four times normal distance magnification power. A very few officers in the Vedoan navy had powerful ten or even twelve power glasses.

  For the right price, there was a man in Lh’Gohria who could custom make a naval glass at sixteen times power, but you really had to pay for it. Fhascully’s glass, however, like that of Commodore Jha’Ley’s, was of the almost unheard of twenty times power. Such a glass was a treasure in and of itself. The man who made them had lived in N’Ville, but was now dead and had not passed his craft on.

  Made of brass casing, the Tele-Twenty, as it was called, slid open in four segments and was beautifully etched with the unit’s number. Fhascully was proud to own number thirty-seven of forty-four units ever made, costing nearly one year’s wages.
Jha’Ley’s was number twelve.

  For two days the company made good time. At end of the second day they determined a gain of perhaps thirty miles from the tower.

  Occasional snow flurries had been encountered, but now they were surrounded by white, including the steep incline now before them. Finding an overhang mostly walled in by snow, they made careful camp and ate well.

  Next morning they resumed the trek up the side of the mountain. Carefully they climbed the trail, taking nearly the whole day to reach the top. If they thought the ridge by the signal tower was breathtaking, their view now was akin to enchantment.

  Literally at their feet was the edge of a huge cloud sea; a lake of mist, appearing solid enough to walk upon. The horizon was lined with snow capped mountains in all directions.

  Seedle whispered, “Simply amazing, a sea of tranquility.”

  Jha’Ley reverently opened his glass, then found his objective. Pointing, he said, “There she is, gentlemen; about four miles straight across, on that mountain in center … Castle Camelot.”

  Jha’Ley was handing his glass to Dessi, when Fhascully suddenly called out in alarm while viewing through his own glass, “Commodore, from the castle … a wyvern … and it is coming this way with alarming speed!”

  Caroll had been standing back of the group, watching the way they had come … when the snow lip broke and he plummeted down the side of the mountain.

  Chapter 17

  EVERY ONCE IN a while, life’s game of chance deals tiles in the player’s favor. The mountain’s side was steep, but not a cliff, and Caroll’s balance and sense of reaction time stood him in good stead.

  As a rule, most people who meet a tragic death under sudden action circumstances do so out of panic. According to Caroll, he was born during a battle against barbarians while his mother held a crossbow. He slid onto the birthing blankets, stood up, and used his umbilical cord to strangle two men while defending his mother with a paring knife. Caroll has been on alert ever since.

  When the crust of snow broke beneath his feet, Caroll assessed in an instant there was no chance of leaping to the side, there was nothing to seize for support, and there was no way around it … he was in for a long ride. Plummeting down the side of a snow covered mountain face-first was not to his liking. He sat back, set his feet, and started to pray in earnest.

  As the tale was told, there was a loud, indiscernible string of words in Lh’Gohrian language. We don’t know what those words were, but they alerted the four fellows staring across the mist faster than the sound of the crust breaking. The whole lip broke loose, but thankfully it didn’t trigger an avalanche, otherwise it isn’t likely anyone would have survived to tell the tale.

  Caroll is a big man with big buttocks, and he literally plowed way all the length of the mountain. Seedle fell into the furrow made by Caroll, with Fhascully next in line holding his spyglass tight in hand. Jha’Ley fought hard for his balance and strove to grab Dessi, but the Marine lost his footing and fell behind his mates.

  Jha’Ley had the presence of mind to holster his glass, even as he made most use of his Tai’Jhi steadiness. He was waving hands and stepping like a phoenix from one moving chunk of snow to another. But then the glimpse of a dragon-like head and wings cresting Seedle’s Sea of Tranquility caught his attention. An instant is all it takes to lose focus, and lose focus he did. He was standing one-legged on a piece of firm crust when he saw the wyvern rise out of the mist open-mouthed, and flying in his direction.

  The crust dropped down the trough with Jha’Ley close behind. They went over the edge as a gout of flame filled the space where he had just been standing, putting his fur cap to flame.

  For an instant, Jha’Ley felt suspended in air, nothing in sight below but an empty expanse for hundreds of rods … the commodore was certain he was dead. The bottom fell out of his stomach as he dropped, then the impact of the snow, the now semi-packed furrow of his mates wrapped around his sides.

  ‘A groove,’ he thought, ‘I must find a groove,’ as a memory of the Sangora and riding the flume flashed through his mind. In his slide, he felt contact with a solid piece of crust at his feet, and he remembered a story told him by Logan about rock-boarding down hills as a child.

  At bottom of the mountain, not three hundred rods from where the last night’s camp had been, a haggard, but living Caroll slid out upon a flat surface before finally coming to a stop. Praying thanks to Ehl’Rohlahn, he looked up to see his companions following his path. Then he saw Jha’Ley, of all things, was standing upright on a piece of snow, crouching down and riding the furrow.

  Caroll might have taken a moment to relish the irony and the sight of his commodore … but then he saw the wyvern dive low with flame from breath … and then he felt the ground beneath him groan. Alarm shot through his vitals as he realized he was lying upon a snow-covered sheet of ice, ice covering what might be a significant body of water.

  Carefully crawling on belly with hands and knees, he saw Seedle quickly coming to slide and he yelled, “Take no pause, do not stand. We are upon ice over water.”

  Seedle needed no further explanation, as he too could feel the surface beneath them crack.

  Fhascully’s descent was not as smooth, as near the bottom of his descent, he began to spin and swerve from side-to-side in the widening furrow. Dessi collided with him at the bottom and both veered into different directions, neither path brought them upon the sheet of ice Caroll and Seedle were carefully crawling off of.

  Dessi was slow to get up, but was unhurt. Fhascully, on the other hand, was on hands and knees and seemed to be injured. Caroll was just reaching what he believed was a safe zone from the ice, when the wyvern swooped down and let loose a gout of flame. It was Seedle who tackled the big man, taking him over into the snow with a roll to evade the flame strike. Seedle and Caroll were coming to the feet when Jha’Ley nearly reached the bottom.

  One moment he was in control atop his ice sled, then something suddenly erupted from the mountain in Jha’Ley’s path, knocking him flailing through the air. Both Caroll and Seedle had the same thought, as they charged toward where the commodore should land. In the meantime, a large head shook the snow from brow as it smashed its way through the track of the furrow.

  The creature, no, make that two creatures, over eight feet tall, bashed their way from the snow in a howling rage to attack the party. Imagine, if you will, a cross between human and rat, turned inside out, lightly sprinkled with short bits of hair, a loin cloth, now covered in loose snow, and wielding clubs … then you pretty much get the picture.

  If they weren’t enough, there were more kobolds as well.

  One of the kobolds was squawking in some manner of speech, apparently giving orders to the creatures. Caroll and Seedle caught Jha’Ley and all three went sprawling into the snow. One creature charged the three as another attacked Dessi and his drawn cutlass.

  Caroll was first up as he put his two-handed scimitar into play. Fhascully saw the engagement and tried to stand as he drew his own weapon, but was clearly in pain from an as yet undisclosed injury. Seedle and Jha’Ley were now up and to arms with their adversary, when they all heard the screeching roar of the wyvern’s diving attack.

  Dessi was holding his own against the giant beast, but he was not trained in this form of combat. He was being pressed backward toward the ice-covered pool when he managed a parry followed by a hearty slash to the torso. But it was not enough, the creature smashed a blow to the Marine which knocked his blade from hand and he to the ground.

  The wyvern physically attacked the creature fighting the three, from whence they immediately disengaged.

  A wyvern is a magnificent being which favors a dragon, but with two legs instead of four, a mane such as a golden lion and a tail which forks into a pair of hooked claws. Red and gold, it was, thirty feet long from nose to tip of tail, and a wingspan a third again moreover its length.

  Fhascully left four kobolds where he struck them, and saw the one beast in batt
le with Dessi. As the wyvern closed with the other, he saw his mate go down. Leaping between kobolds, taking a thrust from a spear-like stick, he stepped upon the head of a diminutive foe and vaulted high into the air …

  … Dessi hit the ground hard, snow covered though it was, and saw the beast raise club over head for a final blow. Then he saw what appeared to be the naturalist, airborne and above the head of his foe … then land upon its back with a deep, downward thrust of that Sparkaen Broad Sword. The beast screamed and reached behind to grab its attacker. Off to the side, the wyvern was beating its wings wildly and lifting its fighting prey into the air.

  A long thick gout of flame from the wyvern engulfed the screaming creature, as the other staggered onto the sheet ice with one hand firmly grasping Fhascully’s arm. Fhascully had legs wrapped around the beast’s waist with his dagger in hand, stabbing once, twice, a third time into his opponent’s neck when the ice gave way.

  Dessi yelled, “No!”

  Beast and Fhascully both disappeared beneath the freezing water, as the Marine quickly crawled upon broken ice, searching for sign of his comrade.

  Fhascully surfaced only briefly, coughing and already shivering, grasping without purchase upon the ice and sliding back down when Dessi grabbed hold of his wrist. His platform was giving way, when Caroll seized his ankles and pulled.

  Fhascully was completely under when Jha’Ley and Seedle helped break away the barrier and bring him out. The wyvern was carrying it’s still screaming prey over the edge of the mountain.

  Jha’Ley looked back to the hole in the mountain and ordered, “Quickly, we have no choice … in there. It must be a cave. We need a fire, stat. Get those two clubs, we can use them for yules.”

  What made him do it, he wasn’t sure, but as Caroll slung their freezing mate over shoulder, Jha’Ley saw another small pair of hands clawing frantically to the broken ice from below. He grasped a hand and pulled a sputtering kobold from the frosty sludge. Pausing only a moment, he opened his bedroll, and to the wide-eyed amazement of the little person, he wrapped the fellow and grabbed him up, then followed his mates to the hole in the mountain.