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The Key of Creation: Book 03 - The Temple of Kian

Page 7

by M. D. Bushnell


  “What about after that?”

  Aelianna was quiet for a time before replying, “I do not know.”

  “Fate, duty, and destiny are boring,” Garrick argued. “We create our own future, our own destiny. No one is in charge of my future except for me.”

  “You believe this?”

  “Of course! Why, do you doubt me?”

  “You not need to get Clavis, or save people. You not need to come.”

  Garrick became serious. “I do have people to save.” The king was quiet for a moment, and then abruptly grinned again. “Aldrick can’t get this done without me anyway, so here I am. I can be responsible, contrary to what my father thought. But I do believe in having fun when the opportunity arises.”

  “I have fun,” Aelianna said. “When I want.”

  “And what do you want right now?”

  “To save my people.”

  “Now we are just going in circles,” Garrick sighed. “This is getting boring.”

  Aelianna shrugged. “This is serious. No time for fun.” Spurring her horse forward, she added with a smile, “I have fun when I want.”

  Garrick called after her, “Hey!” but let her go. Falling back next to Warren he said, “I don’t understand her.”

  “She’s bloody strange,” Dathan interjected.

  Warren grinned. “You aren’t used to a woman who isn’t fawning all over you. Welcome to my world.”

  Garrick made a sour face. “I don’t like your world.”

  They rode in a westerly direction for the rest of the afternoon, picking a path through the rough brush and undergrowth of the snow-dusted forest. The trees were beginning to grow closer together, blocking out more and more of the darkening blue sky. By late afternoon, the rays of the sun slanted down at a long angle, and strange bouncing shadows trailed out behind them, following along in their wake.

  They decided to stop and make camp for the night, and cooked a hearty dinner from the generous supplies Merrek had provided them. The sky darkened into a moonless night, and they huddled around the small fire and spoke in hushed tones while the forest closed in around them, dark and indiscernible beyond the glowing firelight.

  The following morning they set out much as they had the day before, but before long the trees grew in such proximity that the thick canopy of leaves overhead all but blocked out the sun and sky entirely. It grew steadily darker underneath the thick roof of branches and leaves, and the air around them became heavier. The ground was a jumble of branches, stones and debris, inexorably slowing their progress.

  “It’s definitely getting hotter,” Warren said, wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow.

  “It is bloody warm,” Dathan agreed. “The damn snow is bloody gone.”

  Indeed, there was no sign of snow anywhere within sight, although it had been abundant just the day before, even deep in some places. The stale, heavy air was simply too warm to allow snow or ice.

  Although their pace was slow, the air continued to grow warmer, and the sky darker. Soon nearly all blue sky was hidden behind the thick canopy overhead, except for very thin shafts of light cutting through the dense ceiling like knives to dimly light their way.

  “I hope there are no ghosts,” Warren said with a waver in his voice. No sooner did he speak the words than they heard a sudden sputtering, gushing sound off to their right. They brought their mounts to a stop while Warren pointed towards the source, with a look of terror on his face.

  “What...is that?”

  Partially obscured by a random thin shaft of sunlight, an amorphous figure appeared to float past them into the darkness of the forest. Soon it had disappeared into the hidden foliage.

  “G-g-ghost!” Warren cried out, and without thought spurred his horse forward. The animal, frightened by the abrupt command, bolted and galloped forward heedless of what lay ahead.

  “Warren!” Garrick called out after his friend who was already disappearing into the gloom. The king nudged his horse after the fleeing squire with a curse.

  “By the All Father,” Aldrick sighed, and immediately followed.

  “Bloody idiot,” Dathan grabbed his reins, and fought to control his horse, which had been spooked by the commotion. Aelianna, who was still learning to ride her horse, had a similar struggle, and it was several moments before they followed the others.

  Aldrick clung to his reins and prayed his horse did not run afoul of a hidden root or hillock, as he galloped after Warren and the king. He was a fairly talented rider, but with the mad rush of his companions, it was some time before he caught up to them.

  Seeing Garrick stopped, Aldrick leapt off his horse at the edge of a large stretch of dark brown mud. Unlike normal ground, great bubbles slowly expanded and then popped on the surface, followed by a sputtering sound and the release of a small waft of smoke. Trees within the grasp of the mud pit were pitted and black at their bases, with many leaning well over to one side. Some had collapsed completely. Those that still stood were sickly and rotting, and appeared as if they might topple over at any moment.

  In his headlong rush through the dark forest, Warren had stumbled directly into the bubbling mud pit, horse and all. Both were now caught in the viscous sticky quagmire, desperately struggling to escape without success. Warren cried out for help as he sank, but strangely Garrick remained on his horse with a frozen look of horror on his face.

  “Help!” Warren shouted in desperation.

  “Hold on Warren!” Aldrick shouted. “Don’t struggle! We’ll have you out soon!”

  Aldrick ran to the edge of the bubbling pit, and glanced back at the king. “Garrick! Help me pull him out!”

  Garrick neither moved nor dismounted; he simply sat motionless on his horse staring out at his rapidly sinking friend with the same look of terror.

  “Garrick!” Aldrick shouted again, trying desperately to snap the man out of his apparent reverie. When the king made no move, he forgot him and immediately searched through his pack. Surprisingly, a stout coil of hemp lay handy, almost as if someone had expected it to be needed. Grabbing the sturdy rope, Aldrick dashed back to the edge of the mud.

  “Hurry Aldrick, my feet are burning!” Warren cried out frantically.

  Aldrick uncoiled the rope. “Why are your feet burning?”

  “How would I know? It hurts!”

  His horse was further away, frantically struggling to escape the constant downward pull of the morass. Unfortunately, its wild exertions only served to hasten its descent. Aldrick quickly tied a knot towards the end of the rope, creating a loop. He spared Garrick another quick glance, but the king remained motionless. He turned back to the drowning man and called out for Warren to grab onto the rope.

  Warren had quit struggling and remained shoulder deep in the mud, while the horse continued to scramble and drown. It took Aldrick two tries to throw the coiled end of the rope close enough for Warren to successfully grab onto it. Bracing himself behind a fallen log, Aldrick had just begun to pull the rope hand over hand, when Dathan and Aelianna arrived. Seeing the situation, the new arrivals leapt to his aid. They spent the next several moments hauling Warren onto dry ground, amidst a flurry of grunts and curses.

  Once Warren lay stretched out on solid ground, panting and covered with mud, but safe, Aldrick turned his attention to the drowning horse. The poor animal thrashed once more, but only its snout remained visible and it was apparent the animal had inhaled mud. Knowing the battle was lost, Aldrick tried vainly to cast the rope coil around the nose of the drowning animal, but the unfortunate beast slipped beneath the surface and was lost.

  “My horse!” Warren choked, and flopped back to the ground, exhausted. He was covered in thick mud, which steamed even in the warm, humid air.

  “At least you’re bloody safe.” Dathan scraped excess mud from his friend, and winced. “This blasted stuff is hot.”

  “Thank the All Father,” Warren sputtered. “It was so hot in there, I wasn’t sure if I would drown or burn to death.” He co
ughed weakly, and moaned, “Oh, my poor horse.”

  Aldrick frowned. “I’m sorry Warren, there was nothing I could do.”

  Aelianna stood and whirled towards Garrick. “What is this? King is too high and mighty to help save friend!”

  Garrick remained on his horse, staring back at her blankly and saying nothing.

  When the king did not respond, Aelianna started towards him. Aldrick was tempted to watch her pull the man from his horse and dunk him in the mud, but it was clear that something was amiss.

  “Aelianna, stop,” Aldrick said, stepping in between them. “It’s obvious something is wrong.”

  “Get out of way!” Aelianna demanded. “I will teach manners to high and mighty king.”

  Garrick finally moved, sliding clumsily off his horse and staring at Warren.

  Aelianna momentarily paused in her attempt to toss Garrick into the mud pit. “What is this?”

  “I’m not sure,” Aldrick admitted. “For now, let’s get Warren cleaned up.”

  “We’re short a bloody horse now,” Dathan noted.

  “Oh, my poor horse!” Warren moaned. “This wasn’t my fault. That stupid mud pit came out of nowhere.”

  “It is bat’lagh,” Aelianna said.

  “There is something like this bloody bog near Eridun, a small town east of Kishen,” Dathan explained. “They have blasted hot springs there, and members of the royal family go to their bloody country estates there on bloody holiday.”

  “This bat’lagh,” said Warren, stumbling over the name, “is nothing like the hot springs in Eridun.”

  “No, but there are blasted mud pits there too,” Dathan said. “Although no one bloody goes near them.”

  Aldrick cleared his throat. “Let’s get you cleaned up, we need to get moving.”

  They worked in silence while Garrick remained motionless and unresponsive. Aldrick knew from experience that something traumatic must have happened to Garrick in the past to cause this uncharacteristic trance. But what could it have been to render the normally decisive and capable king so useless? There was also the matter of losing the horse, along with all of its supplies. Solving Garrick’s issue was important, but the subject of transportation was now paramount.

  Warren was quiet, although for once he had a reasonable excuse to complain about his condition. Without fresh water, the cleanup was hasty and mostly inefficacious, but they were soon ready to continue their journey.

  “I’m sorry about your horse Warren,” Aldrick said once more, breaking the silence.

  “What are we gonna do with bloody Warren?”

  The question hung in the air while Garrick stared out at the bat’lagh.

  “He ride with me,” Aelianna announced.

  “Are you certain?” Aldrick asked. “You are still new to riding.”

  “I master this creature!” Aelianna proclaimed. “I have most space, he ride with me.” Aelianna jumped nimbly onto her mount, to prove her point.

  Aldrick remained doubtful. “Is that alright with you Warren? I’m sure you could ride with any of us.”

  “Thanks Aldrick, but I think I'll ride with her!” Warren said with a big grin.

  “Alright,” Aldrick agreed. “We’ll redistribute the remaining packs.”

  While the others began to examine the supplies, Aldrick strode over to the stricken king and put a hand on his shoulder. “Garrick, we need to go.”

  Garrick stared at the bat’lagh for another moment, and then turned to Aldrick with a haunted look in his eyes. “Thank you…Aldrick. For…saving Warren. He would have…died.”

  “Of course,” Aldrick said softly. “Are you alright?”

  Garrick said nothing for a long time while he stared out unseeing at the bat’lagh once again. At last, he looked at Aldrick with wet eyes. “I owe you…my friend.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Garrick looked away and shook his head. “No.”

  “If you ever do…” Aldrick left the thought unfinished. The rest of the group had shifted the supplies, and were nearly prepared to leave. “We should go.”

  Garrick nodded silently, and shuffled woodenly towards his mount. He was still in a daze, but managed to climb onto his horse. Aldrick watched the king for a moment, and then did the same.

  Chapter 9

  It was clear they would need to backtrack in order to avoid the large area of bat’lagh, as Aelianna had called it, so they turned and reentered the dim humid forest.

  Almost immediately they heard the familiar sputtering sound off to their left, and could see an indistinct white vaporous form floating ephemerally. Warren began to whimper, but Aelianna held the reins tight, and Aldrick tried soothing the terrified man.

  “Let’s not go through that again, shall we?” Aldrick said through clenched teeth.

  Warren trembled. “B-b-but it’s a ghost.”

  Aelianna grimaced, struggling to hold the horse. “Dying in bat’lagh worse than ghost.”

  “There are no ghosts,” Aldrick added in a calmer voice.

  Warren nodded, although he still swiveled his head around trying to look in every direction at once.

  The company continued through the ever-darkening forest. In the permanent twilight, they continued to hear occasional sputtering pops around them, followed by the mysterious floating vapors. Warren moaned and trembled each time after seeing or hearing another of the mysterious ghostly apparitions.

  “Let’s light the torches again,” Aldrick suggested.

  Warren quickly agreed. “Yes! That’s a great idea!”

  No one had the heart to argue with his enthusiasm, and so Aldrick hopped down and retrieved the used torches from their packs and relit them. Aldrick and Dathan each took one, while Warren sat behind Aelianna, clutching a torch in one hand and her waist in the other. Garrick refused a torch and remained sitting numbly on his horse. They mounted and continued on, small pools of flickering torchlight floating through a miasma of dark tenebrous forest and creeping ghosts.

  True night was fast approaching when the familiar sputtering popped directly in front of Aldrick. Abruptly confronted by a leering formless specter, he let out an involuntary yelp.

  “Is that a bloody ghost?” Dathan called out from behind him.

  Aldrick regained his composure and held his torch out to get a better view of the apparition. Misty tendrils reached out towards the sputtering flame and just as quickly fled the heat of the fire, and dissipated. Aldrick bent over the saddle to inspect the area in front of him, and saw a small muddy hole in the dark wet ground slowly closing over.

  “Take a look at this!” Aldrick called out.

  Warren trembled. “I don’t want to see a g-ghost!”

  “You’ll want to see this.”

  They crowded around the spot where the ghost had appeared. Now, only a small lingering cloud of water vapor remained.

  “What is it?”

  “The ground below our ‘ghost’ popped open and then closed over. The ghosts are nothing but steam vents,” Aldrick explained. “It’s the only logical explanation.”

  “The spirits could be rising up from the ground,” Warren suggested.

  “There are no ghosts,” Aldrick scoffed. “They are nothing but bursts of steam, which slowly float away in this hot humid air.”

  “They don’t feel evil,” Garrick said abruptly, surprising them. “I don’t…” He began, and then drifted off to silence once more.

  Warren looked incredulous. “There are no ghosts? Why then has no one returned from the forest?”

  “I have no idea, but it isn’t because of ghosts,” Aldrick replied.

  “Spirits do exist,” Aelianna declared.

  “Perhaps,” Aldrick said. “But not here.”

  Warren was not convinced. “We hope…”

  “Since bloody ghosts aren’t gonna eat our eternal souls,” Dathan suggested, “We should make camp. It’s been a long bloody day.”

  The following morning, they set out once mor
e in a southwesterly direction, having bypassed the majority of the bat’lagh the previous day. The thick canopy overhead allowed so little sunlight, that they continued to use torches. Traveling was slow and uncomfortable in the near darkness, as the dank humid air made their hair wet and their clothing stick to their skin.

  Still, their hearts were lighter with the knowledge that they were not going to be slaughtered by an army of vengeful apparitions, and the morning passed without even Warren complaining. No one spoke of the events of the day before, or of the odd behavior of the king. What conversation they did have was light and inconsequential, dichotomous to the heavy cloying air around them.

 

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