Beneath a Desert Moon

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Beneath a Desert Moon Page 3

by Mary Hamilton


  But Jarek couldn’t shake the feeling that they needed at least to consider some possibilities and options. “Still, we do need to think a few things through tonight. Do you think they’ll come back?”

  Ratio chimed in. “I doubt it. They left no one alive here. And most likely they know that the captain and many of your people went through the portal already. So there’s no reason for them to expect anything more here.” He paused for a moment. “The real question is what happened to those that were not killed—Commander West and the others.”

  Jarek felt a twinge of optimism at the thought. “They’re probably still out there. We just have to find them.” At that moment, a dark thought intruded. “Do you think it might have been CeCe? Maybe she betrayed us again and somehow got word to the king’s men about our location.” As his voice fell silent, he felt the weight of his suspicion hanging in the darkness among the three of them.

  Burns smirked. “It’s possible, I guess… maybe. Jarek, honestly, I don’t have any answers right now. As for whether they got away, maybe they were captured.”

  More silence.

  “So what do we do?” The Azyrean’s moment of optimism faded. “If they were captured, how do we rescue them?”

  The smirk turned to a cruel laugh. “You were inside the king’s dungeons. What chance do you think we would have of getting in to help them, not to mention getting back out alive?”

  Jarek lashed out, “I don’t know, but we can’t just sit back and do nothing. We have to try.”

  Burns shook her head. “If you have a plan, I’d love to hear it. Because I have nothing.”

  The Azyrean put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t mean to start a fight with you, okay? I’m just saying that West and Virgil and the rest, they wouldn’t give up on us. We shouldn’t just write them off, at least not without trying.” He had a hard time understanding what was going through his head. But, perhaps for the first time, he realized what this band of rebels meant to him. They were his friends, his family. They had become… his home.

  Ratio interrupted the argument again. “Please. Both of you.” His sigh hung in the air for a moment. “Let’s think this through. We don’t know whether or not they are even alive. And if they are, maybe they’ve been captured or maybe not. So first things first. The three of us are good at solving problems. It’s what we do.”

  The fire had gone out of Burns’ voice, but the despair remained. “What do you propose, Brother, that we wander around and look for them? Maybe we’ll just bump into them. Or do we go around asking farmers and townspeople? Ask them if they’ve seen the commander? You know where that will get us—a trip to the dungeon ourselves.”

  “No. That’s not what I propose.” The brother’s voice sounded stronger, more confident than it had just a few seconds before. “I say that we go looking for the brotherhood. None of them went through the portal and none of them were coming back here. So we have every reason to believe that they are still alive. We can find them. And when we do, maybe they’ll know something about the others.”

  Burns didn’t respond. Silence initially greeted Ratio’s suggestion, at least for a few moments. Finally, Jarek spoke up. “Where do we start?”

  “The Brotherhood has survived for years hiding in plain sight. All of us had lives and professions visible to everyone, including the king’s forces. But before that, the priesthood lived in isolation and secrecy. I suspect that most of the brothers would have no idea where the priests had lived. But Andrew would know… and he would have made sure to tell Brother Magnus. I have to believe that they will seek out the refuge of the old priesthood.”

  Burns spoke with hardened words that carried a bit of hope. “And would you know where to look?”

  “If you’re asking whether I know where the priests lived, the answer is no. But I would wager that the ruins to the north would be a good place to start.”

  Jarek vividly recalled their visit to those ruins. “We were up there. I didn’t see anything even resembling a livable abode, only shambles and gutted ruins.”

  Ratio laughed. “Trust me, Jarek, if the priests did inhabit the place, they would not have made it easy for anyone to find a way in. Besides, that is our best bet for now.”

  Burns ended the conversation. “The ruins it is, then. Get some sleep. Morning will arrive soon.”

  Chapter 7: Ebon Hills

  Cool pre-dawn air greeted them as they crept outside the cave. The moon, three quarters full, hung above the foliage to the west. Its silvery rays illuminated seven mounds of dirt arranged in a sloppy pattern—four in one row and the three others off to the side. Jarek couldn’t bring himself to look at them for more than a second.

  Less than a minute later, Burns pushed aside a small bush, and the three of them stepped onto the path. The only sounds breaking the otherwise silent swamp were their quiet footfalls and the chirping of insects.

  They moved quickly along the trail; Burns hesitated not an instant—step here, turn there, slide around the muck and mire. Jarek followed with Ratio bringing up the rear.

  The sun rose into the eastern sky just as the party broke free of the swamp. They picked up the pace. The Azyrean called ahead to the leader, his voice a loud whisper, as though something or someone in the field of high grass was listening to their every word. “Hey, Burns, do you remember the way up to the ruins?”

  She shot over her shoulder without breaking stride, “Sort of. We keep to the north. Hopefully, things will start to look familiar as we get closer.”

  The words gave Jarek little comfort. He recalled when he had made the trek with Captain Virgil and the others. They had moved with the knowledge that their leader knew exactly where they were going and for what purpose. Now, several months later, they were on the move hoping for some familiar landscape and having little idea what they would find if they did reach their destination.

  Ratio’s voice floated to him from behind. “I am confident that the two of you have already thought of this, but we are getting low on food. Do you have a plan for getting more?”

  Jarek deferred to Burns.

  The leader spoke without slowing. “I hadn’t thought of it.”

  “That being the case, might I make a suggestion? If we detour to the west, Brother Martin’s farm is only a few hours’ march.”

  Weariness laced Burns’ voice. “Yes, well, as it turns out, Brother Martin and his family were burned out of their home by the king’s men, if you recall.”

  “Yes, yes, I am quite aware of that. But we may find food there. Most farms have root cellars for their fruits and vegetables—potatoes, onions, and the like. Some of them hang smoked meat and even put up wheels of cheese. It seems worth a try to me, especially since we’re not absolutely certain of our trail nor what we expect to find at its end.”

  ◆◆◆

  “The potatoes, squash, and onions are raw. I guess we could cook them on the trail. But the meat is a good find.” Burns made her way over to a side of venison hanging in the corner. “It’s smoked.” She drew a knife and cut a slice away, popping it into her mouth. She nodded as she chewed. “It’s okay.” Her words came surprisingly clear even though she spoke with her mouth full. Swallowing, she continued, “I’m surprised jackals didn’t find this cache.”

  “Aristan smiles on us today.” Ratio drew his own knife and began carving strips of the meat and wrapped them in cloth that lay nearby.

  “Yeah, well, if your god Aristan really existed, it would have been nice if he’d smiled on the commander and the others. Or does he only do cheap tricks, like giving us food?” Burns shot the sarcastic remark, which fell flat into the group, bringing an awkward silence.

  Jarek searched around and found a carving knife lying on the floor. Wiping it on his trousers, he began cutting and wrapping strips of meat. Mindful of the tension, he cautioned Burns, “Ease up. Insulting his god isn’t going to help. After all, the one hope we seem to have is in the other brothers.”

  “Humph.” Burn
s continued to cut without looking away from her task.

  Ratio paused and strode over to the cellar entrance, inspecting the door that they had closed behind them. “I have an idea. Why don’t we wait until dark, so no one can spot us, and then start a fire to cook up some of these vegetable? They, plus the meat, should do us for a while. We should also check their well out back. I doubt that the king’s men took the time to poison it, especially since they carted the family off.”

  “Okay.” Burns stared straight ahead as she carved off strip after strip of meat.

  As darkness fell and the cellar became pitch black, Jarek walked to the door. “We need to crack this open so we can start the fire. Otherwise, it’ll smoke us out.” He mounted the stairs and gave the slatted wooden covering a push. The night sky above him twinkled with what seemed hundreds of thousands of stars. With the moon not yet awakened, the soft starlight provided the only illumination. He considered the sight with awe. Even after all this time, it still thrilled him to see the vastness of the dark, starry sky. “It’s all clear up here. Let’s get that fire going.”

  From out of nowhere, a voice—the voice he’d heard before—came to him. “Well, I can see that you are not totally worthless after all.” But the voice was only in his mind.

  Who are you? And what do you want? Why do you keep talking to me?

  “Aren’t you the inquisitive one?” A brief pause was followed by words in a softer tone. “Jarek Whit, you are indeed on the right track. Listen to the brother. He will not steer you wrong. But you are going to have to bring your other companion along. She is failing and in danger of giving up to the darkness. You claim to be her friend. You will soon have to prove it.”

  Chapter 8: Ebon Hills

  Charred pieces of wood from the house and sticks from the surrounding land fed the fire. The three watched until the flames died, leaving a bed of hot coals, into which they tossed the potatoes, onions, and squash. “How long will it take them to cook?” Jarek had no experience with cooking.

  “Give ’em a half hour, maybe a little more. The potatoes might be a little crunchy, but the other stuff should be fine.” Ratio shifted the coals around with a metal rod. “We’ll wrap them in cloth and they’ll continue to cook inside for a little while longer.”

  Burns sat, her back against the wall, staring blankly at the glowing bed. She had said next to nothing since they argued back at the rebel camp. Jarek worried about her. The voice had told him that she would need his help. And, indeed, she seemed to be sinking lower with each passing hour.

  He slid over next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be all right. You’ll see. We’re going to find the old priesthood shelter, and the brothers will probably all be there. And they’ll be able to help us find West and the others.” He wasn’t quite sure how many others there were. Virgil had taken his squad through the portal and seven of those that remained in Ebon Hills had died at the camp. West, CeCe, and Corny were not among them. Nor had there been any sign of Brother Martin’s family who had taken refuge there.

  Burns didn’t respond. In fact, she gave no sign that she had even heard him. She simply stared.

  The Azyrean called across to Ratio, “What do you know about the ruins? Do you really believe that we’ll find the brothers there?”

  “Never been there myself. Some of the others have made the trip, though. Brothers Andrew and Martin used to tell stories about it. But mostly they talked about the trip there and back. They said little about the ruins themselves.”

  “We were there once to copy some carvings and writings. I’m not sure where we would even begin to look for those who might be living there.”

  Ratio scooted across to sit beside Jarek. “One thing for sure. It will be underground. If the priests wanted to live in secrecy, they would not be able to remain on the surface, at least not on an ongoing basis. Also, when the brotherhood organized, we all lived in plain sight but our meetings and work were all conducted underground. It’s a thing with us.”

  “As I recall, there was a lot of forest up in that area. And I didn’t see anything that looked like an entrance to a cave or tunnel or anything like that.”

  The brother chuckled. “And that surprises you? The priests would not have survived if a casual observer could spot the entrance. No. It would be well hidden. In fact, it’s possible that we won’t find it at all.”

  The brother’s words weighed heavily on Jarek. With the difficulty of the journey and the odds against finding the priesthood enclave, he was increasingly worried about Burns falling apart.

  Chapter 9: Crystal Sands

  Tovi had done his best to remain out of the way as the new visitors, elves and humans, connected with the ogres. He had to admit, though, it seemed a mismatch. This new human, Captain Virgil, as he was called, seemed to know about the art of fighting, as did the men and women who came with him. Likewise, the elves appeared to have come for the specific purpose of war and appeared very capable in that respect.

  The ogres, in contrast, seemed better suited to taking game and foraging. They were craftsmen—leatherworkers and tailors. Most of the men were experienced miners. They had little appetite for fighting, except, of course, for Kharla.

  As the small group—Klunk, Kharla, Ran, Lar, Captain Virgil, and Mathias—settled around one of the fires, Klunk motioned for Tovi to join them. “Come, sit with us. You have delivered the word of Myhrren to all of the kraals. You should be here for this as well.”

  He approached the group with hesitation. Going around and talking to the different ogres had been hard, especially delivering the bad news about the men who had died. But this discussion was about war, killing, and dying—not subjects for kids.

  Virgil eyed the Azyrean. “You look awfully familiar. I believe that I am acquainted with a friend of yours.”

  Tovi shrugged. “Yeah. Mathias told me. Jarek something or other. He’s a beam keeper. My name is Tovi Gloam.”

  “So, it’s really true. You rode moonbeams. And your beam brought you here?”

  “Yes. I guess my sister, Marzi, ended up with the elves.” Tovi nodded toward Ran.

  The captain seemed to give Ran a quick appraising look before turning his attention back to Tovi. “Well, then, I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Tovi Gloam. Jarek has distinguished himself among our people. We are grateful.”

  Rather than make him feel good, the words placed an additional burden on Tovi. “I’m glad, but I don’t know how much good I can do. I mean, I’m not really good at fighting and stuff.”

  “There are other things just as important as fighting, maybe even more so.” Virgil turned to Ran. “I understand that you and your advance troop came through just before us. Will more of you be coming?”

  Ran, who had been watching the exchange in silence, responded, “Our main force will come through just before first light in the morning. There are about three hundred total including the dark elves of the Bough, the cliff elves, and the frost elves.”

  “And your commander?”

  “Her name is Corhymin. She will arrive with the main group.”

  The captain stood and began to pace, as though trying to think through the situation. “I understand that you had a visitor earlier, something called Dredwyn, I hear. From what Mathias told me about it, I believe that the demon is the true form of the human king, Wyndred.” Virgil smirked. “I can only assume the demon thought the play on his name clever.” He grew more serious. “As I see it, we have several big problems. First, we don’t know when or where Wyndred’s army will arrive. It could be right here or tens or even hundreds of kilometers away.”

  Kharla spoke for the first time. “I believe that I know where they will come. There is a newly assembled portal about two hours’ walk from here. It is located at the back entrance to our mines.” She left out the part about her being the one who helped put it together.

  Virgil’s face brightened. “Good news, indeed. That means that we can organize here and pr
epare to confront the army closer to the portal. But we still don’t know when this will happen. Which makes our other problems more urgent.”

  Ran asked, “What other problems?”

  The captain took a deep breath. “The army we will face is highly trained and disciplined. They live for war and they are good at it. Wyndred will send them under a unified command. There will be no confusion or uncertainty in the ranks.” He gestured around at the fires that lit up the immediate area. “The force we have assembling here would not stand a chance against them in a pitched battle. We have no singular command structure. From what I see, the ogres have only a spokesman, not a commander. I lead the human force and the elven army will come with their commander. Our fortunes will depend on how well we can coordinate, which in turn depends on how well we organize ourselves.”

  The group fell silent, and the vacuum was filled by the crackling of the camp fires. Tovi felt a sense of hopelessness. He had faith in Klunk and even in Kharla. And, really, he believed in the ogres. But from what he’d experienced, getting them organized for fighting or submitting to a single leader seemed nearly impossible.

  And then there was the less obvious tension between the humans and the elves. There was no open hostility, but the Azyrean could almost feel the lack of trust between the two groups.

  Virgil was the first to speak up. “You,” he gestured, “you said your name is Klunk? You are the spokesman for the ogres, correct?”

  Klunk nodded. “I have been asked to say the words, but I only say what I have been asked to say by the kraal chiefs. I am not their ruler.”

  “Yes, I see. When it comes to it, will they follow you into battle?”

  Klunk’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head vigorously. “No. I am not a fight leader.”

  Kharla surprised Tovi and, it appeared, everyone else in the group when she stood. “I will lead the ogres into the fight. They will rise to defend the land and their kraals. We are not afraid of this army you speak of. I am not afraid of them.”

 

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