by Nelson, J P
Tandy was looking from Behn, to Mahrq, to Deyan and back to Behn. Mahrq was listening carefully to what Tandy was saying. Apparently what Tandy said, at least about tracking, carried a lot of weight.
My thoughts were simple, Uven had gotten away. I didn’t care about rabbits and giant wolves.
Behn said, “Devil’s Damnation, Tandy. I didn’t think there had been any wolves in these parts for years; lots of jackals, some big ‘ens, too, but not wolves.”
For a moment there was quiet.
Tandy spoke up again, “Now Mahrq, that Black Aggie was from not far around here. No one ever seen her body.” He looked again from person to person, “I’m thinkin’ maybe a haunt, or werewolf even.”
Mahrq had enough. He shook his head and walked away saying, “That’s it. Drop it. This werewolf stuff is dung droppings. Deyan, see your men get something to eat.” He yelled for one of the brigands already in camp, I noticed the same one who said he clumped me with the club, “Massey?!”
Massey came running over, “Did you hear about the werewolf?” he asked with a touch of urgency.
“There is no damned werewolf. It was just a big track. Now let’s get this bunch together. I want us on the move. We’ve been here too long as it is.”
The new prisoners were brought to our area and I saw utter defeat in some of their faces. Those of us in camp helped the newcomers to food and drink, and I did my part. As they ate, Frahn gave a vivid recount of my fight with Stagus. Everyone gave me all these kinds of looks. It made me uncomfortable. A couple tried to get me to tell my version of the story, but I wanted no part of it. Over on the side I noticed Hoscoe watching me. I got the feeling he was pleased.
There was no hold over for the new comers. They got a couple hours of rest, food, drink and a chance to relieve themselves. Then as soon as the rest of us got everything together, we were off.
Fortunately I still had my working boots on, which were very well made for traction and durability and just broken in. I also now had a couple of blankets and a piece of tarp for bedding, a water skin, pockets full of jerky and dried corn, a six feet long cut branch for a staff and what I had on. Everything else had been burned in the shack, not that I had much to begin with. As I stood at the moment, I had much more than when I first came here.
Sure enough, two hours after the second group pulled in, we hit the road. Into the snow covered road cut by me and my mates we headed back in the direction of Sahnuck Pass. There were thirteen wagons of loot and supplies, forty-three prisoners on foot and thirty-seven mounted brigands, each brigand with crossbows armed and ready. Beside me walked Hoscoe and I noticed they had put Stagus’s wrapped body in his own wagon, drawn by his own prized Clydesdales.
It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 16
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FORTUNATELY FOR US the snow wasn’t heavy and didn’t impede our travel. Nonetheless, Mahrq kept us at a brisk pace. We had traveled only about three miles, about half the distance to the pass, when we cut off to the north, heading into the heavily forested Ahnagohr country. The evergreens were lightly covered in snow and the smell was almost intoxicating. There were very few places that could be called flat, but what must have been an old game trail was leading the way to a rendezvous site where we were to wait for the hunter. Apparently this was new country for Mahrq and had recently been scouted by Tandy.
Often the wagons could just squeeze through and we prisoners walked the whole way. I had been used to being hauled around by Stagus’s crew via wagon. But then, we had been the tools of the trade. Now we were just so much extra cargo, to be used who knew how.
Chains from the road work camps were used to connect us together. Nine wagons had four prisoners each tied to the back. One wagon had seven of us. We were hooked in two lines of two, so that all but one of us had a person to walk beside, but to whom we were not connected.
The brigands didn’t seem to care as to who was tied where, so Hoscoe and me managed to get braced side by side directly behind one wagon. Behind me was a former guard from camp three and behind Hoscoe was Thad. My chain mate was a well set up human with big, bulging arms, a small waist, a shock of brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache who was called Pug.
Turns out Pug was a childhood nickname resulting from an embarrassing childhood incident with a farm animal. He didn’t talk about it, but the nickname stuck. He was in his mid-twenties, loved doing arm exercises and had been an arm wrestling champion in many a tavern. I got all of that from listening to others who knew him. Pug, himself, wasn’t much of a talker
We had been on the move for only an hour or so when Hoscoe commented, “Almost like a forced march. Mahrq knows what he is about. Staying too long at a known spot is not a good idea, especially with the amount of loot he’s got.”
I wanted to spend time talking with Hoscoe. There was a lot I wanted to ask him, if he would answer. But walking at a constantly brisk pace with guards all around isn’t a good time for conversation. My mind was full of other things to ponder, however.
Only the most callused of people can spend time in the mountains, like I had, and not feel the powerful presence of those peaks. The valleys and ravines wrap themselves around you, and the sounds of the rivers and streams move through the very fiber of your being. Even a slave can appreciate beauty, and it was here, everywhere. All you had to do was open your eyes and it was all around you.
My thoughts began dwelling on the singing I had heard so many times. Where was it coming from? Was I the only one hearing it? Nobody else ever mentioned such things. I was already set apart from everyone else, despite the fact I was something of a celebrity for killing Stagus. The idea of being treated like an insane person for hearing voices and singing did not appeal to me.
The mystery music always sounded sort of magical. Was it possible the music wasn’t a person’s voice at all, but So’Yeth itself singing? There was no particular kind of pitch I could attribute the tone with, and there were never any actual words. I could feel the sound, more so than really hearing it. It was kind of like a smooth and soothing vibration mingled with … I couldn’t quite place it. Was it the wind, maybe?
Momma used to tell me of the elves singing as a choir. They would mix ah, oh and ooo sounds together in various pitches to make the most beautiful of music. Momma would sing like that sometimes, not really making words, but it would make me tingle inside. Harmonics, she called it. Blending sounds which complimented each other.
“It’s nature’s music,” she would say. “All you need to do is listen, not with your ears, but with your heart.”
I remember once, momma was humming a tune she called The Rose, when she stopped in mid-note, looked me in the eye and with a mischievous expression said, “The dead can dance, did you know that?”
Being a small child, the first thought which came to my mind was a bunch of dead people dancing around, “No momma.”
With wonderment in my voice I asked, “Can they really?”
She laughed a little and explained, “Sometimes the Old Ones would make instruments from the remains of creatures who have passed on. They would play the most beautiful, soul stirring music. This honored our forest friends and kept their spirits alive and about us. The Old Ones called this Gael Music, and its practice is very, very old.” She would stop what she was doing for a second, lean down to my ear and whisper, “It’s even older than all of elvin-kind.”
She would chuckle and return to what she was doing, leaving me in wide-eyed awe, “Older than the elves, wow-w-w!”
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Thinking of the giant wolf track had me wondering, could this be a spirit wolf? If so, what was it doing here? The idea was fascinating and scary at the same time. Some of these brigands were worried about it though. Their fear alone made me like its presence. Somehow the presence of even a normal wolf seemed to bring fear into the hearts of humans.
We marched well into the day, stopping only briefly for a quick
ration of food and water. The place Mahrq chose was a somewhat open place littered with rocks and surrounded by evergreens. Everything was covered by two to three inches of snow, which was still falling sparsely. Us prisoners were unhooked from our wagons and allowed to find places to sit and eat. Under guard we were each allowed to go, with our chain mate, to the edge of the trees and relieve ourselves.
The brigands kept a vigilant watch and I could tell they were looking into every shadow. I wanted to try to howl, you know, just to see their reactions. But I held it back, smiling silently at the thought.
Then from nowhere came the long, mournful cry of a wolf. The whole company stopped for an instant and froze in place. Beside me Thad was chewing a big mouthful of food and his jaws quit chewing, looking for a minute like a cow paused in chewing its cud. I might have thought it funny if a chill hadn’t run up and down my own spine.
One moment we were trying to eat, the next we were all hurrying to start back on the trail. Those mountain boys were really superstitious and the werewolf idea had dominated brigand conversation. Tandy stepped around the far side of the clearing and tried to locate where the howl might have come from. Another brigand grabbed an amulet from around his neck and started saying prayers. Two different guards, each with a tandem of chain buddies at the tree edge, began ordering their charges to hurry their business.
The howl could have come from anywhere and the place of origin could not be determined, but it sounded close. The brigands already had crossbows loaded and at the ready. Behn suddenly pointed up on a ridge to the south and yelled, “I thought I saw something up there!”
I could never have told you why, but something within me felt things were not right. Something … something unnatural was about us. I had never been in the presence of a magical creature before, not that I knew of, unless you count the dragon. But many tales counted the dragons as not truly magical at all, but great lizards. Some of whom can manipulate magic, like elves or some humans can, but not beings created by mystical forces as described in children’s fairy tales.
Tandy turned to look in the direction Behn had pointed, and then someone screamed as a hairy, snarling beast of about eight feet tall seemed to emerge from the snow behind a rock, snatching Tandy like a sack of clothing. Before anyone could respond another beast seemed to come from within a tree and hit one of the prisoners at the forest edge.
Tandy had been swiped across the face with a clawed hand and his head flew through the air. From the trees one prisoner had been tossed aside, dead, with his chain partner yelling in fright. The tandem’s guard had just shot the beast at point blank range and was trying to step back to draw his sword. He never got it clear and his screams were terrible.
Two more of these dirty, white haired creatures appeared, as if from beneath the snow among the rocks, and began tearing through the party. Everything was in chaos. Tandy’s assailant threw his body aside and easily leaped up to the top of Stagus’s wagon. A brigand had climbed to the top after the wolf’s howl to look around and had just shot the creature.
I didn’t get to see what was going on elsewhere because one of these hideous beings was charging toward me and Pug. Pug was panicking, and well, I wasn’t doing so well either. I was trying to yell at him to run with me, but he slipped and fell. The beast gathered itself and leaped with a snarling growl. It looked to be a horrendous mixture of human and hyena with cruel fangs and three-inch long claws. It was covered in dirty white hair with blackish spots, not fur, and stank like two day old carrion.
The creature landed on Pug, grabbed one of those well muscled arms and tore it off easier than I can pull apart roasted chicken. Its shoulders were enormously large and when it slapped Pug’s chest, the bones crushed as if they were nothing. The bloodshot eyes focused on me and I could smell its rancid breath. Yup, I was panicking. It grabbed the chain connecting Pug and me together and started to yank me closer, when from nowhere this giant, white and silver wolf came hurtling through the air, caught the beast from broad-side and knocked the creature sprawling.
Fast and furious the two fought, but the beast never got a good blow on the wolf. Getting in behind, the wolf seized a hamstring in its jaws and laid the leg bare to the bone. Literally dancing in and around, evading the beasts own assaults, the wolf found its throat and suddenly the creature exploded into so much smoke.
The wolf paused only a moment, crouching as if ready to attack again when it made eye contact with me. This had to be the four hundred pound wolf described by Tandy. It did not seem to try to communicate, as many animals had tried before, it just looked my way and paused for a fraction of a second, then leaped into the forest as two brigands with crossbows attempted to shoot it. Deftly the wolf seemed to evade the bolts with an ease you would have to see to appreciate.
Was I imagining things, or had there been a golden tag or medallion hanging from below its neck? Everything had happened so fast, I couldn’t tell. And who would, or even could, tag so huge of a wild creature?
In the span of three or four minutes it was all over. A total of two of the beasts had been killed. One took a hail of crossbow bolts, the other had apparently been skewered through the heart by Mahrq himself. Each had exploded in foul smelling smoke. The remaining two took off through the trees in different directions. One person swore he saw a creature disappear into the side of a tree.
Our own losses were heavy. Thirty-one prisoners and twenty-six brigands survived the attack. Four mules were killed, which meant two of the wagons were re-harnessed to a team of two mules each. Behn and Massey were dead, as was Frahn. I was relieved to see Hoscoe and Thad were fine. They had been on the edge of the woods finishing their business when the attack began. Hoscoe had grabbed Thad, rolled him into the snow and ordered him to lay still. Fortunately Thad had done just that.
Situations like that, I guess, aren’t good times to be sentimental and Mahrq wasted no time. It seemed cold to me at first, but later I would understand, as he gathered the weapons of his fallen comrades without making any effort to bury the dead. He regrouped the prisoners and we made haste out of there. My new chain mate was Bernard and he talked much less than Pug.
Again, Hoscoe and I got positioned beside each other. As we were being hooked up he looked over at me, “You okay, boy?”
“Yeah, that was close. You have any idea what those things were? Demons maybe?”
He shook his head, “No idea. I have never heard of such creatures before, not to go up in smoke like that.”
“How about Yeti? I’ve heard of them having white hair and hiding in the snow.”
“No, Yeti would have attempted taking their kills for food. They do not have claws that long, either, and if you can wound one, they bleed. No, these are something else, more sinister.”
The wagon lurched forward, “So you’ve seen Yeti?” I asked.
He looked at me, and with a grin he added, “Oh yes. Stab them low. Do not take time to slice at them. Their long hair is almost like wire and makes them look large and bulky. A Yeti skinned out is a thin creature. Their most vulnerable point in combat is a thinly covered soft spot below their belly. Run them through and get out of the way quickly.”
As we made way I watched Hoscoe carefully. Tough and hardy, yes, but he was somewhere in his seventies and the steady, quick pace was taking its toll.
We traveled quickly and pushed as long as there was light. Nobody felt much like talking and we all wondered if we would be attacked by these things again. Overnight fires were kept burning bright and before the sun was up we had we hit the trail. It quit snowing late on our second day of travel and we made good time.
By early evening of the third day we made the rendezvous site.
The place was the ruin of an old stone fort. It looked to have been abandoned for a long time, but three of the walls were still up and seemed solid. Most of the front was still standing, but you could tell something had knocked down the entire gate section. Inside was a two hundred by two hundred and fifty feet co
urtyard with one building somewhat intact, the remains of two other buildings, and a few trees which must have gown wild bearing some kind of berry.
A big fire was the first thing established in hopes of keeping haunts at bay, then the buildings were checked out and tents set up. The walls were about twelve feet high with a rampart all around. A single stone stair was usable and watches were set. Trouble was there were very few brigands to defend this place. Mahrq must have been sweating.
Vegetable plants had taken over much of the grounds and squash, onions, potatoes, beans and corn plants were all over. We prisoners were put to work getting the place in order and harvesting what vegetables we could.
Hoscoe again took unofficial charge of us prisoners and kept us in order. He had managed the trip, but I was worried about him. He looked pretty ragged. In the evening of our first night in fort, I put a hand on his shoulder, “How are you? You look tired?”
There was some hesitation, “I will be alright …” he was lying through a strained smile and leaning against the tent’s main pole.
How much good it would do I didn’t know, but I had to try. I *Reached* down inside my being and sought the essence of So’Yeth. Like a warm blanket, it filled me and I pushed it into Hoscoe’s body. His eyes flickered for a moment and looked at me with silent amazement. He seemed to strengthen and I thought I heard his back pop four or five times. There were no words. He just nodded and we both understood.
That little bit left me feeling pretty tired, but it was worth it. I lay down and slept a dreamless sleep.
The main building was about 30’ x 60’, had an upper level, and was well built of rock. There had been a heavy wooden door in front, but it had been knocked down and on the inside there were several long tables and benches. Obviously this had been a great hall. Two big fireplaces, one on each end of the building, were cleaned and put to immediate use in getting the place warm. Kettles and what not had been left on one end of the hall, so that’s where we set up for chow.