Not long after breakfast on the third day from the north fortress gate, Lucky stopped excitedly and rushed off the path to a patch of odd-looking flowers.
“Alexander, Abigail, come look!”
He stood before a patch of strange-looking plants and smiled broadly. Each plant had a cluster of broad, bright green leaves at ground level with a single stalk jutting out of the center about a foot tall and as big around as a man’s finger. The top three inches of each stalk was covered with dozens of dark little purple flowers all hanging by threadlike stems. There were probably a hundred plants in the patch.
Everyone came up alongside Lucky and looked somewhat dubiously at the flower patch. Alexander was studying the look of the aura around the flowers. It had a swirl of colors that gave him an uneasy feeling like they possessed a great but hidden power.
It was Jack who asked the question first, “What are they?”
“These are called deathwalker root. They are highly prized by alchemists. The leaves and flowers are important ingredients in a number of complex potions, but the root itself is the most valuable part. It’s the main ingredient in healing potions and salve. In fact, the root can be prepared into a rudimentary healing salve fairly easily, but it must be done when it’s fresh.”
Lucky carefully grasped the stalk of one of the flowers and firmly but gently pulled it straight up out of the ground. The root was the diameter of man’s thumb and about five or six inches long. It looked like a small white carrot.
“Help me gather about half the patch, working from the outside,” Lucky said while pulling up another.
“Why only half?” Jack asked as he bent to remove a deathwalker root from the edge of the patch.
“These are rare and valuable. It’s important to leave enough of the patch so that it can replenish itself. If we take them all, this patch will die. If we take half, it will remain for others to use in the future,” Lucky explained.
They worked for several minutes, carefully pulling the odd-looking flowers up by their roots until they had a neat little pile. Lucky laid out a square cloth and set out two empty jars.
“Pluck the flowers one by one like this.” Lucky used his fingernails to cut the threadlike stem of each flower without damaging the delicate little purple pouch. “Be careful not to burst the flower sack. The powder inside will make you sleepy, and it’s the ingredient we want. Lay them on this cloth. Next, pluck the leaves at the base of the plant and put them in this jar. Finally snap off the root, brush off any remaining dirt and put them in this jar.”
In minutes, Lucky had them organized and working. Alexander was always eager to learn and was so familiar with Lucky’s teaching style that he didn’t even think about the time lost. The fact that the deathwalker root could be used to make healing salve far outweighed any delay. Alexander had experienced the value of such magic firsthand. They worked quickly, with Lucky supervising their efforts. Once they were finished, they had a jar full of leaves, another full of the root itself, and a pile of delicate little deep-purple flowers on the cloth. Lucky carefully pulled the corners of the cloth into a pouch and tied a piece of string around it, then gently slipped it inside a metal canister.
“Once we make camp for the night, I’ll show you how to cook the roots down into a healing salve,” Lucky said. “It’s not as effective as one I could make if I had a lab to work in but it’ll do in a pinch and it can be made by anyone with the knowledge. The more powerful version requires a few other ingredients and preparation by an alchemist. The leaves are similar to numbweed but not quite as potent and they’ll make you drowsy. The powder in the flower sacks is a potent sleeping agent. Mix the contents of one flower into a cup of hot tea and you’ll soon fall deeply asleep and wake rested and refreshed eight or nine hours later. The contents of four to five flower sacks mixed into a tea are a deadly poison. With proper preparation by an alchemist, the powder of the deathwalker flower can also be made into a dust that can render a full-grown man unconscious in a matter of seconds if it’s blown into his face.”
The whole process took about an hour and then they were back on their way. Alexander made a mental note to look more closely at the aura of the plants he saw around him for that quality of color that made him uneasy. He was starting to develop a greater understanding of the subtleties of the living aura now that his second sight was a constant part of his vision. He’d long known how to tell if someone was lying or how to determine the basic nature of a person’s character from the look of their colors, but he was starting to learn how the colors reflected a person’s mood and emotions as well. He found that he could also tell when a plant was sick by the muddy look of the colors surrounding it or healthy by the clear bright nature of its aura.
He was also getting better at moving through the woods. Isabel had gracefully slipped into the role of instructor, offering her knowledge freely and without judgment. She was patient and exuberant all at once. She took delight in showing Alexander details about the forest. Abigail, Jack, and even Anatoly listened attentively to her brief lectures when she came to something of interest. One time it might be how to cross a patch of ground without leaving tracks, the next she might point out a plant to be avoided or kneel to inspect a set of animal tracks. Lucky occasionally nodded his approval at the information she offered and even added a detail or two, but never had cause to correct her. She was never offended at his additions but instead took the information as a gift and added it to her deep understanding of the forest.
Alexander was happy to be the student and discovered a deeper respect for Isabel with each piece of information she offered. He’d spent a great deal of time outdoors but most of it was out on the range with cattle. The forest was a whole different place. It was more three-dimensional. The trees above created a canopy of life that wrapped all around them. Isabel seemed to be much more aware of the three-dimensional nature of the forest than most due to her connection with Slyder. She often stopped to look through her hawk’s eyes and it gave her a perspective of the terrain and their surroundings that was more complete. She was able to set a course that avoided difficult obstacles without having to backtrack because she could literally see them coming miles away.
They’d been pushing hard all afternoon and it was nearing dusk when Isabel stopped and closed her eyes while tilting her head back slightly in the way she did when she was looking through Slyder’s eyes. Her eyes snapped open. She looked around quickly with a calm urgency that sent a tingle of warning racing through Alexander. He unslung his bow and nocked an arrow before she found what she was looking for. She pointed at a large tree with a few low-hanging limbs.
“There, make for that tree and climb quickly,” she said.
“What comes?” Anatoly demanded, slipping his war axe free from the strap that held it across his back.
“Wild boar, over a dozen,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the tree.
Alexander heard the first squeal a few hundred feet through the brush. He didn’t waste any time running for the tree. Anatoly was the last into the tree and he was just in time as a dozen wild boar charged through the woods squealing in fear or anger, Alexander couldn’t tell which. They moved so much faster than Alexander would have thought and the bigger ones were easily four hundred pounds. He’d grown up around hogs on the farm, but they didn’t move like this and they certainly didn’t have five-inch tusks.
Isabel balanced herself between two branches like she’d done it before and smoothly loosed an arrow into a smallish-looking boar. Her shot drove cleanly through the boar’s rib cage and into its heart. It squealed in pain and tumbled to a stop. The rest of the boar kept going into the brush.
Alexander gave her a quizzical look. They had plenty of food. He didn’t understand why she would take down a boar. Then he heard a crashing noise coming toward them through the forest. Isabel’s face went slightly white and she motioned urgently for silence. Everyone fell dead quiet as they waited for the noise coming toward them. Alexander
broke out into a cold sweat and froze in place when he saw it.
It stood nine feet tall and weighed at least a thousand pounds. It had the head, barrel chest, and long powerful arms of a giant gorilla and the feet and tail of a large reptile. Its back was armored in grey scales and there was a row of eight-inch bone spikes running down its spine. Its belly and neck looked like the leathery skin of a reptile and was a leafy green, the color of new shoots in spring. As if the sheer size and power of the thing wasn’t bad enough, Alexander could see in its colors an unnatural twisting of auras that looked like two creatures forced to coexist in one space. Its tortured colors stood out in stark contrast against the clear and vivid living aura of the forest all around.
It crashed through the brush and pounced on the dead boar, pinning the carcass to the ground with one of its clawed hind feet. It stopped and got very still, like it was listening for prey. Everyone in the tree froze, all eyes fixed on the beast.
Chapter 38
It tipped its head back and gave a strange noise that was not a growl or a scream but almost both at once. Off in the distance, the call was answered and then again from a different direction. The beast took the two-hundred-pound boar by the hind feet with one powerful hand and flipped it over its shoulder onto the row of eight-inch bone spikes, impaling it a half dozen times and holding it in place. Blood leaked from the carcass and ran down the sides of the beast. It held its prize by both hind feet with one giant hand and took off into the forest in the direction the rest of the boar had gone.
No one moved for a long moment. They just listened to the beast crashing through the forest and then to the squeal of another boar and then another.
“What was that thing?” Alexander whispered.
Isabel didn’t answer. She was looking through Slyder’s eyes.
Anatoly was the one who spoke. “That was a gorledon,” he said quietly.
Isabel came back from her aerial scouting. “They’re gone, and thankfully not in the direction we’re headed.” She started to climb down out of the tree.
Once back on the ground, Alexander was feeling decidedly less enthusiastic about the beauty of the forest. He looked around warily and knelt next to the very large lizard-like footprints left by the beast that had just carried away a two-hundred-pound boar at a dead run. Everyone was a bit shaken by the encounter. The thing was big and powerful, it moved very fast, and it seemed to hunt in a pack.
“Tell me more about that thing,” Alexander commanded to no one in particular while he scanned the woods for other threats.
Lucky took up the mantle of the tutor. “The gorledon are unnatural, predatory creatures said to have been created by the wizards of Karth during the Reishi War. They took a large and very dangerous type of pack-hunting reptile and magically crossed it with the giant gorilla that inhabits their southern jungles. The result is a beast of fearsome capability. They run faster than a horse, climb better than a tree squirrel, hunt in packs of three, communicate with a sort of primitive language, have armored scales on their backs and sides that can easily turn aside an arrow, and they’re strong enough to rip a man in two. They are very rare on Ruatha and have only been reported in the Great Forest.”
Alexander looked over to Isabel. “Have you ever seen one before?”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ve seen paintings and drawings but I’ve never actually seen one before. They’re said to be the most dangerous predator in the forest, except for a dragon, that is.”
Alexander was speechless, but only for a moment. “What do you mean a dragon? Dragons are supposed to be just stories.”
Again Isabel shook her head. “Far to the east, near the Pinnacles where the forest gets wild, there are said to be dragons. I’ve never seen one myself but I’ve heard stories of Rangers who have. It’s been many years since a sighting, but then we don’t go as far as the Pinnacles unless we have a very good reason to.”
Alexander looked to Lucky and then to Anatoly, hoping that one of them would tell him that the fables and tales of dragons were nothing but stories.
“Alexander, every story has a basis in reality,” Lucky said. “Often the truth of the story is much different than the tale, and dragons are no different. They are very rare and tend to keep to themselves, living in unpopulated and remote areas, but they do exist. I doubt you will ever see one and even if you do, it will probably be from very far away.”
“Slowly but surely, everything I thought I knew about the world is being turned on its head.” Alexander took a deep breath and centered himself. “I guess I won’t bother worrying about dragons right now, but I am a little concerned about those gorledons. Will they be back?”
“I don’t think so,” Isabel said. “They got their kill for the day. Most likely, they’ll go back to their lair and eat their boar.”
“I guess that makes sense. Do they hunt at night?” he asked.
Isabel and Lucky both shook their heads in unison.
“Good, let’s find a place to make camp. It looks like we have less than an hour of light left,” Alexander said.
They found a large, jumbled pile of giant boulders not too far from the tree they’d taken refuge in. The huge rocks stood eight to ten feet high, were scattered haphazardly across the forest floor, and were covered on the north side with bright green moss. The boulders created a natural enclosure that was as defensible a place as they were going to find.
After a quick meal, Lucky took a few minutes to show everyone how to prepare the healing salve. It was a simple process. First he washed the roots, then smashed them into pulp and cooked them in water. After the pulp mixture began to boil, he poured off the water and used a fork to fish the fibers out of the remaining mush. The dark grey-green sludge that was left was the healing salve. It turned to a thick gelatinous salve when it cooled. Lucky scooped it up with a spoon and packed the thick ointment into three of his little jars. He handed one each to Alexander, Abigail, and Isabel.
“Apply directly to a wound and it will speed the healing process, but remember it will also make you sleepy. For more serious wounds, you will most likely lose consciousness if you apply a significant amount.”
Everyone was still too much on edge to sleep so they stayed up for a while sitting around the little cook fire. It wasn’t long before the conversation made its way around to New Ruatha. Alexander would have to claim the city as his seat of power if he was going to be recognized as King of Ruatha. The mark on his neck would be enough to persuade some, but certainly not all.
“Jack, you grew up in New Ruatha,” Alexander said. “Tell me about the city and the Regent.”
Jack took a moment to collect his thoughts. “The Regent of New Ruatha is named Danton Cery. He claims the title of first among equals on the council of Ruatha but that title has little substance. The council is not so much a ruling body as a loose agreement among the rulers of the various territories of Ruatha. Each ruler claims a different title. Some call themselves kings, others governors, and a few have maintained the traditional hereditary title of baron or duke that has been attached to their territory since the time of the Reishi.
“Regent Cery is a capable administrator and a shrewd ruler. New Ruatha is a bit different in that the ruler is decided by the consent of the local council of petty nobles. Since the royal line has been absent for so long, the petty nobles in and around New Ruatha agreed long ago that the Regent would be selected from among themselves once every ten years. Cery has been Regent for nearly fifteen years now, so he has firmly established his rule and made the necessary alliances to succeed in securing a second term as Regent, which is actually quite an accomplishment since that hasn’t happened in nearly a hundred years.
“In general, Cery is respected by the people for his fairness and evenhandedness. He understands his place is not to rule so much as to protect the lives and property of the people. He’s been quite successful in protecting the people from the natural greed of the petty nobles while at the same time creating an envir
onment where the nobles can thrive through legitimate commerce instead of outright usurpation of property.
“His constable has a well-defined role and does not overstep his authority. Most people in New Ruatha feel safe on the streets, even at night. All in all, the city itself is orderly and well maintained. Cery himself is not terribly ambitious. In fact, as my father tells it, he didn’t even want the duty of Regent initially. He was chosen because the two nobles vying for the position were not trusted by enough of the council to gain sufficient support. Cery was the only compromise choice that could gain the necessary backing. He even spoke in open council against being chosen, citing his duties to his house and holdings as his reason. It was said he gave an impassioned plea to choose someone else.” Jack chuckled. “After his speech he had more support than before. He was appointed Regent against his will. Of course, some say it was simply a masterful deception that manipulated the council into selecting him but his behavior as Regent hasn’t borne that out.
“He maintains a military force of sufficient size and capability to defend New Ruatha from any of her neighboring territories but not large enough to pose a credible threat to those territories. He doesn’t want war and has carefully managed the affairs of the military to create a delicate balance of credible deterrent without overt threat. The forces he does have are well trained. Most are professional soldiers and many have served for their entire adult lives. He doesn’t use his military for maintaining order within the city and he expects his soldiers to obey the laws just as any other citizen. As a result, his soldiers are well respected and generally trusted by the people.
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