On the other side of the pass, Cox and his chums found themselves looking down on a snow-covered farmland scene. At the base of the mountain was a smallholding consisting of a farmhouse and several outbuildings. Fences and hedges contained a handful of cows and sheep and a large barn stacked with hay stood behind a frozen pond. Cox smiled when he spied the farm and urged the gryphon towards it.
“Greetings, sir,” said the farmer, as the carriage pulled into the farmyard. “That’s a fine beast you have there, not from these parts, I’m sure.”
“Do you own this property?” Cox asked coldly.
“Yes, sir,” the farmer replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. It’s only small but produces enough to keep my family and that of our farmhands well-fed with enough over to trade as we need.”
“Are you aware,” said Cox, “that all this land from the southern sea to the land of Narg in the north, and from the islands of Nicea to the city of Trillodium in the east has been designated the property of his Excellency Count Balfour of Iragoth?”
“That’s him what took over the monastery on the other side of the mountain en’t it?”
“That is he,” Cox replied.
“We don’t have much to do with the other side,” the farmer said. By now, he had drawn an audience of farmhands and a handful of women who had emerged from the cottage to see what was going on.
“Let me see your record of taxes,” Cox demanded.
“We have no such record, sir, cos we en’t paid none.”
“Why not?”
“We never had to in the past, and no one told us any different. What we got to pay for anyhow, I owns this land, and we don’t get no services this side of the mountain,” said the farmer, beginning to see that what started as a pleasant winter’s morning was rapidly disappearing down the privy.
“As I just told you, idiot, this land belongs to his Excellency. Your taxes are due for the privilege of living here and for his guarantee of protection,” Cox said.
“Protection from what? This is a peaceful community, we ain’t never needed no protection,” the farmer argued.
“Protection from us, of course,” Cox replied. “Captain. Take some of your men and collect wood for a fire. Use these sheds if you must. Then slaughter what animals you find and prepare to feed the men. Search these premises for any ale or wine too.” He turned to the farmer. “Consider that your tax arrears.”
“No!” shrieked the farmer’s wife running up to plead at the side of the gig. “Take our animals, and we are finished, we need our livestock.”
“You can always appeal to his Excellency if you can get there and back before my men can catch your animals,” laughed Cox and pushed the woman back with his foot.
The farmer jumped to his wife’s aid, only to be struck on the back of the head with the hilt of the captain’s sword. He fell unconscious on the floor. A farmhand was about to retaliate for the attack on his father but was restrained by his young wife and brother.
“So far there has been no serious injury,” Cox called. “If you oppose my men, you will not live to see another sunrise. Now stand aside.”
The gord began their task of ransacking the property. They used fence and shed to build a massive fire in the centre of the farmyard and rigged spits to cook the freshly killed animals to feed the horde. The farmers could do nothing but watch generations of work destroyed in the space of a few minutes.
Dan and Lyca made it to the top of the pass and began to make their descent on the other side when Lyca grabbed Dan’s arm to stop him.
“I think they’ve stopped,” she said. “I can’t hear them marching, but I can hear shouting.”
“Can’t hear anything,” Dan replied.
“You wouldn’t,” Lyca said. “Let’s get a bit closer, be careful.”
Slowly they worked their way down the narrow path, trying not to dislodge any stones that would give away their presence to the enemy below.
When they reached the mouth of the pass, they were able to see the farm and the devastation being caused by the marauders. By now, the remains of the wooden outbuildings were piled up ready to be thrown on the fire raging in the yard. Various items were being thrown from the cottage’s windows to rowdy shouts of approval from the gord. The smell of roasting meat floated up on the late morning breeze, making Dan feel hungry, and Lyca feel sick.
“I wonder if the others have made it to the tunnels yet?” she asked.
Dan looked at the position of the sun in the sky to get an idea of the time. “I don’t know how far around the mountain it was, not too far I shouldn’t think. They ought to be getting close by now.”
“We aren’t going to find out what happens to them till we get back, are we?” she said.
“Don’t see how we will get to hear anything out here,” replied the fairy. He looked up and down the pass. There was no one about. “You should be safe enough here,” he said. “You keep out of sight, and I’ll go and get a closer look. Don’t go anywhere till I get back.”
“Hey, hang on!” Lyca replied. “We are not splitting up.”
“It’s alright; I won’t be long.”
“No, we stick together,” Lyca insisted.
“What’s the problem?” Dan said sharply. “We aren’t going to get any information unless we get close enough to hear them talking.”
“We’ll find out what they’re up to just by following them,” Lyca said.
“But we’ll find out a lot more if we eavesdrop,”
“I want to keep you where I can see you,” said the girl.
“What does that mean?” Dan demanded.
“Shh, keep your voice down,” Lyca hissed.
“What did you mean, keep me where you can see me?”
“You’re a jinx,” Lyca replied. “Every time you go off on your own something bad happens.”
“What!”
“Yesterday, you got lost in the forest, and all those dead animals came back to life,” she said.
“That was not my fault,” Dan retorted. “Garren was teaching the boy magic, and it went wrong.”
“But afterwards the Guardians were waiting in the woods all full of knowledge about our plans.”
“Are you accusing me of telling them?”
“You aren’t the most subtle of people; they probably heard you muttering to yourself,” she argued.
“I resent that,” Dan spat, going redder and redder.
“Then there was last night,” Lyca added. “You were conveniently absent when I turned.”
“I told you, I was getting firewood and got...”
“Got lost...again.”
“Ah,” Dan said, triumphantly about to make his point. “I was right there with you when the troll attacked, and when that water spirit almost sank the boat.”
“Yeah, flying safely out of harm’s way both times,” retorted the girl.
“You surely don’t think I’m on their side?” Dan said, amazed. “How long have we known each other?”
“Maybe you’re just bad luck,” Lyca said, quietly.
“Well,” Dan stated decisively. “In that case, you will probably be better off on your own.”
Lyca started to tell him not to be stupid, but it was too late. The fairy transformed and zoomed off towards the farm before she could stop him, leaving the angry girl standing in the rocky pass alone.
She watched him zoom out of sight, then, wondering if she would see him again when he calmed down, she crept through the mouth of the passage and crouched behind a boulder to wait and watch.
Lyca never really thought Dan had betrayed them, but it had to be said that there were a lot of coincidences. She just wanted him to stay, as much for him as for her. If he did get lost again, he would most likely end up bumping into the gord and getting captured. They liked fairies - well they liked pulling the wings of fairies anyway. Now she felt terrible and alone.
Dan sped off down the hill towards the farm. He was fuming, but he had the presence o
f mind to keep to the hedgerows and copses where he could. The furious fairy had a good mind to go back and teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget for accusing him like that, and after she nearly killed them all last night, too. He continued to the farm and cast around for the leader of the troop. He spotted him over by the little house. Now he had to get over there without being noticed. Dan had to circle the farm to get to the bushes on the far side of the cottage, keeping to the hedgerows. It took him a long time because there were so many soldiers running about he had to sneak from branch to branch, but eventually, he made it to a small copse of trees, around a frozen duck pond. He positioned himself where he could see Cox. The enemy commander was listening to one of the gord who seemed to be making a report.
If fortune had been kinder to Lyca, it would have instructed the wind not to blow from the east. But as it was, luck was not on Lyca’s side. The light breeze blew the combined odours of burned meat, the sickly stench of the gord and the musty smell of the clerics towards the girl, rendering her heightened sense of smell useless. Therefore, the first Lyca knew about the scouting party of soldiers coming down the pass behind her was when she heard the twang of the soldier’s bow as it sent an arrow hurtling towards her. The ill-fated girl spun around at the sound, helpfully presenting her chest to the oncoming shaft of iron-tipped wood. As the realisation hit her, so did the arrow; right in the centre of her chest. She stared down at the hazel arrow sticking out of her chest in complete amazement before looking up to see the triumphant archer, further up the pass. Then the light went out of the world, and she felt the impact as she sank, involuntarily to her knees; the buzzing noise in her ears blocked out all other sounds. Finally, she fell forward into the snow and moved no more.
“Did you see that?” yelled the archer jumping up with excitement. “That has got to be a hundred and fifty yards and bang. Dropped her like a sack of spuds. Beautiful.”
“You jammy bug... Eh-hem... Thank you, Troezan,” said his superior. “That will do. Let’s check it out.”
“Captain, I am sure there was someone with her when we sighted her a while back,” said the third soldier.
“Keep your eyes open, lad,” the captain replied.
The three yellow-skinned soldiers approached the fallen girl, looking for signs of anyone else. Finding none, they turned their attention to Lyca carefully edging towards her with short swords unsheathed and at the ready in case she suddenly jumped up and attacked them. The captain jabbed her roughly in the shoulder and jumped back warily. She did not move. Satisfied she was dead, he kicked her over so her sightless eyes stared straight up at him.
“Dead, alright,” he confirmed. “And a human by the look of it.”
“Why would a human follow us?” asked Arissus. “They make lousy spies and even worse thieves.”
“Guess no one told her that,” sniggered Troezan, still pleased with himself.
Captain Ilyas picked up the backpack and emptied the contents on to the snow.
“Nothing but clothes, food, a few tools and some camping gear,” he said. “Let’s get back and inform the commander.”
Cox was sitting in the doorway of the little farmhouse when the scouting party approached. It was warmer out there with the raging fire than inside now the windows were gone. He was gnawing at the charred leg of an unfortunate bird, probably a goose or turkey.
“Captain Ilyas,” he said. “I assume that as you are unaccompanied, you are here to tell me that you found those following us and dispatched them accordingly.”
“Yes, sir, that is correct,” replied the captain.
“Did it not occur to you that it may have been useful to capture and question the spy?”
“Er, didn’t have the chance, sir,” Ilyas squirmed, “My legionnaire dropped her like a... er...got off a lucky shot and killed the creature stone dead, sir.”
“What was it?”
“Human female, sir.”
“Human, eh? Odd, they don’t normally get involved in matters that don’t concern them. Pathetic creatures.”
“Er, sorry sir,” said the captain tentatively, “aren’t you human?”
“Once, captain. Once,” Cox answered. He did not expand on his answer, his attention being momentarily caught by a small gleam of light in the trees. It was visible for a second, then it disappeared behind a branch, appearing again on the other side and then it was gone. Cox tried not to look directly at it but nevertheless was mindful of its presence.
“Oh sir, there was one other thing,” Ilyas said. “Before we were sent out, the lookout said he thought he saw two people following us, and when we climbed the ridge to get behind her, one of my boys was sure he saw the human with a male companion. We looked around and found no other footprints or any other sign that she was with anyone.”
“That’s all very well,” Cox said, looking up at the sky. “Don’t give him a second thought. But that is very strange. Look at the way the clouds are scurrying across the sky.”
The captain squinted up at the bright sky, but not for very long before the light was blotted out. “It looks like the Master is summoning up his magic again,” he said.
“Hmm,” replied Cox thoughtfully. “I hope you are right.”
Dan’s light flickered through the heavy snow and shimmered into human form in the pass where he and Lyca had had their argument. He noticed several sets of footprints leading further down the high sided ravine. He followed the tracks until he arrived at a partly snow-covered body, lying behind a large boulder.
The fairy brushed the thick snow off the victim’s face. He examined the arrow, imbedded in her chest and smiled. “Perhaps you were right,” he said. “Maybe I do bring bad luck.”
Dan stooped to gather her possessions, scattered around by her assailant. Shaking off the snow, he replaced them in her pack and placed it next to her. Then, reaching into a leather pouch which hung at his side, he pulled out a small stone and whispered something to it before throwing it high into the air, shouting, “Ella Ithiel.” The stone heeded his command and shot off back down the pass towards the river.
He looked at the sky and the heavy snow which seemed to be set in for the time being. Taking a folding shovel from the camping equipment in Lyca’s pack, he began to shovel snow over her lifeless body.
Chapter 14
The Trap
The snow fell for over an hour, and such a fall had scarcely been seen in living memory, which, when you consider that many of the locals were immortal, is really saying something. At its height, the blizzard was such that you could not see more than two feet in front of you and the howling wind drove it into huge drifts several feet deep.
The cave in which Garren, Maya, Tom and Valcris had taken refuge offered them little shelter from the intense cold. The snow drifted inside quite a way, but where they were huddled at the back, it didn’t quite reach them, and at least they were out of the wind. They watched as the snow drifted across the entrance, shutting out more and more of the weather as the opening grew smaller.
The respite in the cave gave the vampire chance to heal himself completely. By the time the snow finally ceased, he had managed to close the gash in his side where the Chimaera had bitten him, and he was free of puncture wounds, though there remained areas of redness on his pale skin to indicate where his injuries had been.
Their foray into the tunnel had been disastrous. Not only had Valcris lost his protection against the sun and been tortured by the agonising fungus spores, but Garren had lost his staff, and more importantly the gemstone at its head. Without the focal stone, he was unable to project his magic, their only real weapon.
“You can use my crystal,” Tom offered.
“I can no more use your gem than I can use the key to the Dragon’s Tome, that you bear,” Garren replied sadly. “Do you remember, back in my cottage when I told you that a stone and its owner are a pair? They must be compatible.”
“Oh yeah,” Tom said.
“What do you plan to do now?” Val
cris asked. “Do we attempt the other way, to the rear of the monastery?”
Garren thought for a moment before answering resolutely, “No. We will go back into the tunnels.”
“We were nearly killed in the tunnels,” Maya said, shocked by the reply.
“The tunnel is blocked by the gate, and that two-headed, fire-breathing thing is there, remember,” Tom said.
“Also, Balfour is aware that we intended to enter the monastery that way, and that I was with you,” Val pointed out. “I do not believe it was a coincidence that there was a trap laid for one such as I.”
“No,” Garren said. “Neither do I. I am most concerned that every step of the way, our plans have been anticipated. He is being informed of every move we make. But how?”
“It is most unnerving,” Val agreed. “But how can we go back into the tunnels, it will be far too dangerous. The spores will still be there, and as Tom says, our way is blocked.”
“Returning to the tunnels will be the last thing Balfour will expect, and I am willing to wager he does not know the passages as well as me. If he has followed it from the monastery, he will not be aware that there is another way up, by taking the path to the river. It is a more demanding route, certainly, but it will lead us to the network of hidden passages just the same.
“Those spores are still going to be lying all over the ground,” Maya stressed. “Will they not attack our feet as we walk through?”
“Yes, they will,” Garren replied. “But it is nothing that Tom can’t deal with; with a little help from me.”
“Me!” Tom exclaimed.
“I have every faith,” Garren assured.
“I’m not much good at magic,” Tom said. “Remember the dead animals in the woods.”
“You have also managed to save Val from the sun as well as yourself, from Lyca, not to mention the boat you summoned when I could not,” Garren said.
“I could give it a try,” Tom agreed reluctantly.
“We can ask no more,” smiled Garren.
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