Sticking the damaged digit in his mouth, Garren reached down, caught the flailing tail sticking out from under his hide boot and, lifting his foot flicked the demon dormouse into the centre of the fire.
“Ahh,” Tom protested.
“It was undead!” Garren exclaimed.
“Yeah, I know,” said Tom. “But that was a bit cruel wasn’t it, chucking it into the fire like that.”
“It can’t go running around dead; there’s no telling what trouble it could cause,” Garren explained. “Anyway, Colin would not be very pleased if we start bringing things back from the dead. It would really make a mess of his paperwork. Ow!” he cried.
The deceased dormouse had managed to crawl out of the fire, albeit without any flesh left, just little bits of charred meat clinging to a sooty skeleton and, without either of them noticing, crawled up Garren’s boot and took a good bite out of his shin.
Garren knocked the skulking skeleton to the ground and this time using a handy rock, smashed it into tiny pieces, scattering them with his foot. As he did so, Tom noticed that all around them, the wet ground had begun to move. All around the fire, there were little eruptions of muddy soil as if something beneath was trying to fight its way to the surface.
“Er, Garren,” he said.
His companion stopped kicking the splintered remains of the dormouse around and looked to see what Tom was staring at. “Oh, what in the name of Hades have you done, boy?”
Before Tom could protest, all over the clearing skeletons of dead animals emerged from the ground, mice, birds, rabbits, something bigger shaped like a dog, that Tom thought must have once been a fox. As soon as it freed its back leg from its muddy grave it lunged, jaws snapping at him.
Just in time, Tom picked up a log yet to be put on the fire and bashed the ex-fox to the side, and before it had time to recover itself, it shattered into a million pieces as a flash of light from Garren’s staff hit it. “Get up on the log. Quickly,” Garren shouted and blasted a belligerent bunny that was just about to make a meal out of his left knee.
The dead creatures just kept on coming, some of the more recently deceased still had putrefying flesh hanging from their bones. Those who had lived and died in the more distant past were nothing more than a collection of bones held together with malicious intent. That intent being to cause as much damage as possible to anything with a pulse. The snow around the clearing was teeming with rampaging dead, and every one of them made their way towards Garren and Tom.
Tom wielded his branch this way and that batting away anything that moved. Garren sent a spell hurtling downwards, clearing a radius of three metres before hurriedly chanting incantations which seemed to have no effect at all.
“Nothing is working!” he cried in despair. “Your spell is too powerful for me to break. You will have to do it yourself.”
“Me!” Tom exclaimed, batting a rotting raven that was doing a kamikaze run towards his head. “I don’t even know how I started it.”
Some of the unholy throng began to move away from Tom and Garren’s log, towards one of the paths leading into the clearing. It was soon evident why when Valcris came into the clearing jigging up and down like an Irish dancer as he stamped the critters into the ground. They appeared to have no interest in his already undead form and were simply trying to get past him to Maya who was some way behind him, jumping on anything that got past the forward defence.
“You have to stop them, Thomas,” Garren shouted.
“How?” Tom cried.
“Concentrate everything you have into restoring things to the way they should be,” Garren instructed. “Imagine all the dead animals safely buried beneath the ground and peaceful. Put everything you have into it and say, ‘morte restetuo.”
Tom bashed a rabbit away with a forward swing, knocking a young badger with a rib cage full of decomposing organs flying with a nifty backhand, then seeing his chance, closed his eyes and began to concentrate hard. He imagined everything as it had been before the magic lesson. No dead animals, no sympathy and no scratchy sounds of tiny bones rattling together as they clattered around looking for something alive to chew on. He tried hard to ignore the flash of light as Garren blasted some dead creature from right in front of him. It was at least a comfort to know that Garren was protecting him while he tried to stop this ridiculous attack. Tom summoned up all his energy and spoke the words.
Through his closed eyes, Tom was aware of a bright flash of light, much closer than if it came from Garren’s staff. He assumed it came from his own crystal. All at once, the din ceased, and all was quiet. Tom opened his eyes and saw Garren, Valcris and Maya standing looking at him. There was no sign of any dead creatures, and the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the call of a few very alive birds.
“What in the world was that?” asked Valcris.
“Yeah, who set the bones on us?” said Lyca emerging from another path. “I was just coming into the clearing when these bony little beggars attacked me.”
“How did Balfour know we were here?” Val said, assuming that the attack must have come from the enemy.
“He didn’t,” Garren said quietly.
“Then who set the critters on us?” asked Lyca.
“Tom did,” Garren said. “I was giving him a magic lesson.”
“What did you teach him to do that for?” Ly said.
“I didn’t. It was an accident. I didn’t realise how strong his power was,” Garren said, looking at Tom with suspicion.
“Er. Sorry,” said Tom.
“At least we are all in one piece,” said Valcris. “Lyca, where is Dan?”
“I don’t know,” replied the girl. “I lost him about an hour ago. He went off into the bushes to do what comes naturally and never came back. I scouted around for him for a bit but figured he could take care of himself and he knew where we were going to meet so he would catch up sooner or later.”
“We’d better find him,” said Valcris. “Sadly, I am not going to be able to cover much ground while it is daylight, but I will do what I can.”
“We’ll go back to where you last saw him Lyca,” Garren said. “Maya are you able to sense him?”
The girl’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and she began to turn slowly on the spot. “He’s that way,” she said, pointing into the thicket.
As everyone looked towards the direction, Maya indicated the bushes began to rustle. A light could be seen flitting from branch to branch, eventually bursting out into the clearing. The bright yellow glow sank to the ground before them, and in the blink of an eye, it became the dumpy little figure of Dan.
“Where did you get to?” Lyca demanded.
“I took the wrong path when I went for a leak and lost you,” Dan said.
“I thought you Woodlanders were at home in the woods,” she taunted.
“My woods, not these woods,” Dan grunted.
At last, they were all together and, for the moment, safe. The little group settled around the fire for some refreshments and compared the stories of their journey to the clearing, blissfully unaware that in the monastery several miles to the north, preparations were well underway to repel their impending incursion.
Chapter 9
At the River
So overgrown was the path that the six travellers were on that they were forced to go in single file. Garren slashed away the undergrowth with his staff. It had been transformed into a scimitar with a razor-sharp edge, the jewel forming the end of the grip. Behind Garren came Lyca, upbeat and full of frivolity as usual.
Maya followed, sullen and silent. She had hardly said a word since the group met at the hollow. Tom kept pace behind her, happy to have warm, dry feet and feel the cushioned air soles soften his steps.
The well-wrapped vampire brought up the rear, just behind the grumbling fairy in his human form, refusing to resume his natural state and fly effortlessly above the undergrowth because, he said, it was sissy.
After they had finished their lunch, they disma
ntled the camp. The fire was put out with snow, and to cover their tracks, Garren called up a strong wind which sucked up the snow like an invisible vacuum cleaner and threw it into the air. The result was a highly localised snow shower that covered the whole clearing, hiding all signs that anyone had been there. Once happy that no trace of their presence remained, Garren enchanted everyone's feet so that no footprints were left in the snow and they set off along the path. Tom thought it quite strange and oddly compelling to watch the snow spring back up like a sponge as soon as they had passed.
"Stop!" Lyca hissed at Garren.
He halted and quickly scanned around for any signs of trouble, but saw nothing.
"Move along there," called Dan from behind.
"Shhhh," Maya hissed, gesturing to everyone to keep quiet.
"What is it?" Garren whispered.
"There are two Guardians up ahead," she replied quietly.
"How can you be sure?" Tom asked, looking past the others.
"I can recognise that smell anywhere," said Lyca sniffing at the air. "It's the sulphur from the well. It gets into their robes, hair, skin. It's like a beacon for me."
"I can't smell anything," Tom said, sniffing.
"You wouldn't; you don't have a wolf's sense of smell," she lowered her voice further still. "Or hearing, I can hear them talking."
"We need to find out what they are doing out here," Garren said. "They don't normally patrol the woods. Lyca, come with me, the rest of you, wait here and keep quiet."
Silently Garren and Lyca crept along the path. Garren could hear the voices too now. A few yards further, he dropped to the ground. Through the brambles, the cleric could see the two Guardians. They were stood in a small clearing just round the bend from where he and Lyca were crouching, standing before a tree. Garren strained to hear the words, but Lyca could hear them clearly and had for some time.
"... sent by our master on an urgent errand. Six fugitives are coming this way. Two females and four males, all wanted for treason. They are believed to be making for the bridge," one of the men was saying.
"If they get to the bridge, they shall get no further," came the breathy, rasping voice of a Sen-Tree.
"It is our master's wish that you and your clan lookout for these criminals and detain them if possible, or alert us if not," the Guardian instructed.
"Why not let them get to the bridge and be dealt with there?"
"How do you know what awaits them at the bridge?" asked a suspicious Guardian.
"We listen to the wind," replied the tree. "It comes down from the mountain and across the river. It whispers its secrets to those who know how to listen."
"The Count wants them captured alive for interrogation," said one of the robed figures.
"Then it shall be so."
The Guardians left the clearing and went back the way they came, away from Garren and Lyca. Garren signalled to go back and silently the two made their way back to the rest of their waiting company.
"This is bad in so many ways," Garren informed them. "Firstly, they have Sen-Trees in the wood. It's always been free of them in the past, which is why I chose this path. Secondly, the bridge we were making for is guarded and thirdly, not only does Balfour know about us, he also knows how many of us there are and our plan to cross the river; possibly the entire plan."
"But how has he accomplished this?" Valcris asked. "Only we knew of the quest for the Tome and of course the witch, but I cannot imagine that anything would entice her into betraying us."
"We saw Albert on the way, but we didn't tell him anything," said Tom.
"I think Albert can be trusted," Garren said.
"Normally I would agree," said Dan, "But you know how he is always talking of getting back home to that girl of his. He carries her picture everywhere he goes. What if Balfour has promised to get him back?"
"I trust his integrity," Garren said. "Did anyone else see anybody on the way here?"
No one else had encountered anyone on their way to the hollow, and no one had mentioned their quest since their meeting the previous day.
"But even if we had been overheard in the tavern, I am sure we did not mention our intended route, we did not decide that till this morning," Valcris reasoned.
"It is most disconcerting, I agree," said Garren.
"We should abandon the plan and go home," Dan said emphatically.
"No way," Tom said. "It's OK for you; you can go home. I can't. I have to get that stupid book and use it to get back."
"None of us can go home now," Garren said. "Balfour knows who we are. We would be arrested the instant we walked back into the village. We are committed to the quest now and have no alternative but to see it through to the end. All we can do at this time is find another way to the river and rely on our good fortune that we come across no more Sen-Trees."
Sadly and silently, the group made their way back to the hollow where they had rested earlier, each one trying to find an explanation for Balfour's intelligence. Was he using magic to spy on them? Divination of such accuracy is a rare gift. Could someone have overheard them making plans? Had Garren overestimated Albert's integrity? They could all vouch for each other; couldn't they? Tom had only met them the day before, but Garren seemed to trust each one of them implicitly.
"Someone has been here within the last hour," Garren said as the group emerged into the hollow. Several sets of footprints had trampled the snow that he had wisely re-laid earlier. The tracks led from the Tarn Road where Tom and Garren had come and disappeared along a path to the right of the one they had taken.
"Let's make haste before they return. We'll make for the river further down."
They hurried off along another path, this time with Dan leading the way in his fairy form, flying way out in front, looking for Sen-trees, hoping that if he spied any, he could dart out of sight before they noticed him. If not, well it would not be unusual to find a fairy in the woods, it being, after all, their natural habitat.
This path was broader and easier to travel, but it was more exposed, so everyone was as quiet as they could be and used whatever senses they had at their disposal to identify possible dangers. Twice they stopped because Dan thought he had spotted a Sen-Tree, only to find it was nothing more than an ivy-covered oak. Lyca halted once because she could smell something nearby, almost causing Garren to reduce a badger to a smouldering heap of fur.
Despite the minor holdups, they made good time, and in less than an hour, they were almost at the river. However, the closer they got, the more uneasy Maya began to feel. Eventually, she called a halt.
"There is something up ahead," she said, the fear evident in her voice.
"I know," said Lyca to everyone's surprise. "I've had its scent for a while now. It's still a way off, but we are getting closer."
"Yes, I have this feeling of an awful presence. Powerful. It is waiting. It knows we are coming," Maya went on.
Valcris came and put his arm around her, "Do not fear, we are prepared now, thanks to you. We will be extra cautious."
"Ly, have you any idea what it is?" asked Garren.
"No, I've never come across this scent before, it's a new one on me. But it's nasty. Pungent, decaying, horrible." She shuddered, her nose wrinkled up at the unpleasant odour.
"What we stopped for now?" asked Dan flying back to see where they had got to. He perched on Tom's shoulder. Tom stood very still. He was intrigued by the little figure with his almost imperceptible transparent wings and the bright glow that came from them when he was in flight.
"Maya and Lyca can sense something ahead. Have you seen anything?" Garren asked.
"No, all clear to the bridge, not a sign of anyone. It's just a little further on. You'll be there in ten minutes."
"Hmm," Garren mused. "Ly, could it be a troll?"
"Could be, I never smelled one before," she shrugged.
"I would hazard a guess our enemies have engaged the services of a river troll. They live under the bridge in the dark places by t
he supports. Nasty little blighters they are too. Quick, strong and they smell like decaying fish. They will have you bound and under the water before you know what's happening. They don't like their food too fresh. After a few weeks in the river, you are nicely matured and ready to eat."
A shiver went through Tom at the thought of being tied up and drowned. "Can't we, you know, use magic on it or something?"
"Difficult," Garren answered. "They are so quick. By the time you have cast a spell at him, he has already blocked it or dodged it. No, as soon as we put a foot on the bridge, he'll have us."
"I could fly over without him noticing," said Dan. "So could Val, if we waited till after dark."
"That's no good for the rest of us, is it?" said Lyca sarcastically.
"If my memory serves me well, there used to be a little farm a mile down the river," said Val. "If it is still there, we might find just what we need to help us. Lyca, my dear, as you are the fastest on foot, well, during daylight hours, I wonder if you and Dan might like to pay a little visit there."
A minute later Val had taken Lyca and Dan aside and communicated his plan. Lyca grinned like a Cheshire cat and disappeared down the path with the fairy following above. Valcris returned to the others and said, "Let us make ourselves comfortable on the edge of the wood, at the speed Lyca can run it shouldn't take long."
Sure enough, within half an hour of the remaining companions perching themselves on stumps of felled trees on the edge of the wood, listening to the sound of the river only a few yards away, Dan returned.
"Where's Lyca?" Tom called.
"She's coming. She's having a bit of trouble," Dan replied chuckling.
As he spoke, Lyca emerged, bottom first, from a path holding on to a length of rope. The rope did not appear to want to come with her despite her pulling and cursing. Eventually, the other end burst forward, causing Lyca to fall over backwards. Attached to the rope was a very stubborn white goat, munching away at some cloth torn from the hem of Lyca's cloak.
"A goat!" Tom exclaimed. "How's that going to help?"
The Sorcerer's Tome Page 11