by Jim Melvin
Then she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his, white energy bursting from her lips. He nudged her away, as if afraid.
“Have I offended you?” Laylah said.
“Quite the opposite. But there’s more you must know of me before we proceed further. Being with me can be . . . dangerous.”
She sighed. “I think I understand. And there’s more you must know of me, too. Will you take me back to the shelter? You’ve done much to heal me, but I’m still weak.”
“Of course. But there’s one thing I need to know before you retire. Who is the man with you? It’s obvious you care about him, but tell me why I should allow him to remain with us.”
Laylah couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you jealous?”
“If I denied it, I’d be a liar.”
She laughed again, but then her face grew serious. “His name is Lucius. Before the rise of Mala, he was Invictus’ greatest general. But he became disillusioned with my brother and switched his loyalty to me. Without his help, I never would have escaped from Avici. I owe him my freedom and my life. But I don’t love him like a spouse, if that is your concern.”
Torg looked relieved.
“One problem remains,” she continued. “Lucius does love me in that way, and he has openly professed it. I fear to tell him how I feel—about you. I have no idea how he’ll react, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he became violent.”
This time, it was Torg’s turn to laugh. “The man you call Lucius lacks the strength to harm me. I am beyond him. But I understand how much you owe him—and in turn, how much I owe him. So . . . what do you propose? Do we pretend not to care for each other?”
“For a while . . . until I can bear to tell him the truth. But know this: You are my one and only.”
A single tear slid down his cheek. “I will do as you ask, for as long as you ask. But regardless of what games we must play, I will not be separated from you. I plan to travel west and then south and eventually seek shelter in Jivita. Next to Anna and Nissaya, there will be no safer place in the world once Invictus unleashes his army. Will you come with me? It will be a long journey.”
“If you’ll have me.”
Then she kissed him again.
This time, he did not resist.
When she returned to the shelter, she collapsed into the deepest, sweetest sleep of her life.
Torg let them sleep until midnight. He and several Asēkhas meditated for fifty long breaths before rousing the others. Outside the cavern it was cool, overcast and extremely dark. Before departing, they ate squares of Cirāya and drank desert wine. They had no time for more. Torg was too anxious.
“We have a head start, but it’s not enough. Mala will not rest.”
Ugga belched and then stretched. “I was having the best dream. Too bad we have to go in such a hurry. I hasn’t felt this good in a long time.”
“Me neither,” Bard said. “The wine has filled me with vigor. How are ya doing, Elu? I’ll bet ya have growed an inch already.”
“Elu feels wonderful,” the Svakaran said. “But he doesn’t like wolves chasing him.”
“Who are these wolves after, anyway?” Rathburt said, gesturing toward Laylah and Lucius. “Us or them?”
“You know full well who they’re after,” Lucius said. “But there’s no need to worry. The two of us will be on our way now and will trouble you no longer.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Torg said. “You’d stand no chance without us. You’re obviously no woodsman, and Laylah isn’t fully recovered.”
“Laylah? Is it Laylah, now? How did you come by that name?”
Kusala stepped forward. “My lord, must you abide his insolence? His king has tortured you enough. Why should you have to suffer further insults from such a fool? I say we put an end to his foul words and cut off his head. Or at least take out his tongue.”
“You would attack an unarmed man?” Lucius said.
“I would gladly arm you, but it would make no difference.”
Once again Laylah defended Lucius. “Please do not harm him. He has endured more than you know, and if he speaks harshly, it’s out of concern for my welfare.” Then she walked over to Lucius and stared into his face. “If for no other reason, will you try to get along with these men for my sake? We need their protection.”
“Very well,” Lucius said, but afterward he refused to leave Laylah’s side for even a moment.
As they left the shelter and strode into the darkness, Elu came alongside Laylah and tugged on the sleeve of her dress. “You are called Laylah? That’s a nice name. May Elu call you Laylah now?”
She smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Yeah, why don’t you?” Lucius snarled. “In fact, why don’t you scream it all over the woods?”
“Lucius is right,” Torg said, trying to sound conciliatory. “Let’s use names as little as possible, and then only in whispers.”
Then he patted Lucius on the shoulder. “It’s time we all try to ‘get along,’” he said to the firstborn. “We have a common enemy. I’m willing to call a truce, if you are.”
Lucius grunted but his expression softened.
Laylah looked at Torg and mouthed the words thank you.
As the night deepened, they continued toward the southwest, skirting the feet of several great mountains that towered above them on their right. The uneven ground would have been treacherous even in daylight for anyone not used to such terrain, but Torg and the Asēkhas never stumbled, and Ugga, Bard, Elu and even Rathburt were at home in the woods. For Laylah it had been more than seventy years since she had run wild and free in Mahaggata, but she quickly regained her confidence and walked as effortlessly as the rest. However, Lucius fared poorly, and he cursed under his breath every time he lost his footing or bumped his head. Despite the yellow-haired man’s struggles, the others dared not light a torch or make use of Torg’s staff. Wolves had excellent night vision and could detect the scent of smoke or magic for leagues. And dracools could see almost as well as dragons.
Tāseti rushed forward and bowed to Kusala. “Chieftain, a dracool has been spotted in the sky. We don’t believe it has seen us, but it soon might. What should we do?”
Kusala turned to his king. “Lord?”
“Is it within reach of a sling?” Torg said.
“It can be done,” Tāseti said.
Torg nodded, and Kusala’s heir raced into the darkness.
“A dracool aided us,” Laylah said to Torg. “He told us that their kind is interconnected through their minds. Will the ones with Mala be able to sense if one of their own has fallen?”
Just hearing her voice made Torg feel dizzy, but he tried not to show it. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I still believe it will be best to eliminate any spies that come near. With the Asēkhas leading us, we hope to go a long way before we’re discovered. However, the wolves will find us eventually. And then I’ll have decisions to make.”
“Whatever decisions ya make, don’t leave Ugga out of them,” the crossbreed said. “Bard and me want to stay with ya, Master Hah-nah. Will ya keep us by your side?”
“I’d have it no other way,” Torg said. “For better or worse—and probably worse—you’re stuck with me.”
“Don’t forget Elu,” the Svakaran said. “He wants to stay too.”
“Elu will stay. And even Rathburt,” Torg said.
“Lucky me,” the slump-shouldered Death-Knower responded gloomily.
Just then a loud crash erupted in the nearby brush.
Soon after, Tāseti came into view. “A clean kill, my lord. It fell without a cry.”
“It’s a pity that such an ancient creature had to perish,” Torg said. “Given the proper direction, dracools might prove worthy of our friendship. But they seem more attracted to evil than good.”
“Izumo wasn’t that way,” Lucius said. “Without him, Laylah and I wouldn’t be alive.”
“I wish I had met Izumo,” Tor
g said. “The dracools remember much that most others have forgotten. But they’ve never been fond of speaking about it to me.”
“You would have liked Izumo,” Laylah said. “In some ways you remind me of him.”
Rathburt laughed too loudly. “I’ve always said he looks like a dracool—without the wings.”
Kusala gave him an angry stare, and Rathburt shut his mouth, fading into the darkness.
“Master Slump is always like that,” Ugga explained to Laylah. “But he’s not such a meanie when ya get to know him.”
Even Torg chuckled. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
Kusala reminded them, harshly, that they were making far too much noise, so they continued on in silence. The Asēkhas led them along game trails—taking advantage of the instincts of wild animals which unerringly follow the path of least resistance—enabling the party to sidle around the slopes and conserve valuable energy. The trail wound through stands of hemlocks, chestnut oaks and yellow poplar, though the trees themselves were just another part of the darkness, and only an up-close view of their bark could differentiate them.
At one point, the group came across a rock outcropping that hung precariously above them. Cold water from a nearby springhead trickled off the ledge. They stopped, bent back their heads and drank. To Torg it tasted delicious. Afterward he watched Laylah take her turn. It was too dark to see much, but he was able to make out the tendons in her neck as she leaned backward. At that moment the urge to kiss her—there or anywhere—became almost irresistible.
Torg remembered the words of Peta: There are three females on Triken who can abide you—and you already have met them. Vedana was one, Jord another; he knew those two from recent experience. And the third? Could it be? Laylah was the sister of Invictus, which meant she was a creature of magic.
Peta, is she the one? Please tell me it’s true.
An owl hooted in response.
After drinking their fill, they continued their journey. The only sounds they made were the occasional curses from Lucius. Torg could sense the Asēkhas’ distrust of the man and their growing admiration of the others. Elu moved almost as quietly as a Tugar, and even Ugga—as tall as Torg and a good deal heavier—was graceful. Laylah seemed at home in the darkness, walking with the suppleness of a Tyger. Every glimpse of her made Torg desire her all the more.
Peta, if she’s not the one, I don’t think I can bear it.
But in his heart, he knew she was. He could sense her internal power, had already tasted it—and it had blended seductively with his own inner flame.
Damn this Lucius. Why should I worry about his feelings?
But he knew the answer.
Because Laylah asked you to, that’s why. Be patient, Torg. Patience is the path to bliss.
By the time dawn approached and swept away the great darkness, they had traveled four leagues from the rock shelter. The sky had cleared overnight and now was crystal blue. They entered a cove pervaded with magnolias, basswood and giant poplars. Silver bells blanketed the forest floor, their blooms eagerly greeting the rising sun and the welcome warmth of spring. Golden butterflies fluttered among them. Crimson cardinals flew from tree to tree, males tussling with males and chasing after the less-colorful females. If the specter of pursuit had not harassed them so much, the group would have stopped and stared, soaking in the beauty and enjoying the sweet-smelling air.
Even Laylah seemed stronger.
“It’s time, my friend,” Torg said to Kusala. “Which four will you take with you?”
The chieftain started to speak but was interrupted by Rati, who rushed down the side of a nearby slope and ran to Torg.
“Lord, a pack of wolves is on the prowl—fifty, exactly. And Porisāda warriors ride them. I witnessed their approach from the ridge above. They’ll be upon us before the sun is overhead. And their howling has alerted the dracools. Mala will soon know our location. The main strength of his army was not within my vision, but we must prepare for an attack from these foul beasts and their riders.”
“I can’t leave now,” Kusala said. “You still need my help. Surely one more day away from Anna can’t hurt.”
Torg agreed. “We’ll need all of the Asēkhas. Things are going to happen in a hurry. We must be prepared to run as fast as the wolves. And have your weapons ready.”
“What about me?” Lucius said. “I can wield a sword or a bow. Will you leave me defenseless?”
“When the fighting begins, I’ll make sure you’re armed,” said Torg, who then turned to Laylah. “Both of you.”
Except for their midnight snack of cactus squares, they had not eaten since dusk of the previous night, and even that meal had been tiny. Although time was precious, they were forced to gobble a light meal to keep up their strength. Then they drank deeply from a nearby stream. In the foothills of the mountains, lack of water was not a problem. There was a stream, creek or springhead within five hundred paces of almost anywhere they stood.
Shortly thereafter, they continued their flight. With the arrival of daylight, visibility became plentiful despite the dense canopy. The cove ran east to west. To the north the land rose like a stormy sea toward a range of vast mountains, while to the south it smoothed considerably. But the forest—an eclectic mixture of hardwoods and conifers—became even denser. Many of the hardwoods, the oaks especially, had not begun to leaf out, and their bare branches reached toward the sky like the gnarled limbs of skeletons. But hundreds of dogwoods were in bloom, their spectacular white flowers gleaming like leftover patches of snow. Torg loved to walk these trails in the early spring, but he had no time now to enjoy their splendor.
As Rati had predicted, they began to hear the howls of the wolves around noon.
“How many did you say there were?” Rathburt said, panting and wheezing.
“Fifty . . . with Porisādas on their backs.”
Rathburt looked at Torg. “You, Ugga, Bard and Elu whipped a larger pack than that . . . and a Kojin led them. With the Asēkhas at our side, it should be no problem.”
“The wolves we defeated did not carry Porisādas,” Torg said. “Even so, if we faced just this small band I would not be concerned. It’s Mala and the rest of his army that endanger us. Once these wolves and their masters recognize us for what we are, they will not attack directly. But the cannibals are excellent bowmen and can shoot while they ride. I believe they’ll attempt to encircle us and hinder our progress, giving the monster and his minions more time to catch up.”
Lucius joined the discussion. “I know the Chain Man better than any of you. He is confident to the point of recklessness. Once the dracools report our number and location, he will send orders to harass us and slow us down. And then, when his army is within striking distance, he’ll attack all at once with every bit of his strength. If that happens, one hundred Asēkhas will not suffice.”
“One hundred Asēkhas would suffice,” Torg said, “but, alas, we do not have one hundred and therefore cannot defeat Mala’s army by force. Flight is our best option, but even that will be difficult. We might outrun Mala, but we can’t outrun the wolves.”
“If we can’t fight and we can’t run, then what can we do?” Rathburt said. “It’s as if you’re saying we’re doomed.”
“You’re not doomed,” Laylah said despondently. “Only Lucius and I. This doesn’t have to be your fight. Maybe Lucius has been right all along about the two of us separating from you. Mala will come for us and allow the rest of you to escape.”
“Do not say such words again,” Torg snapped at Laylah. “We’re in this together, until the end.” He turned to Lucius. “All of us, I mean.”
The howling intensified. The wolves were less than a league away.
“We must reach higher ground,” Torg announced. “I want to stay above the enemy. Mogol arrows cannot harm the Asēkhas. They will guard our flanks. Do not be without hope. I have a plan. If I am right about what lies ahead, then we might yet have an advantage. But we have little time to wa
ste. Elu, you know these lands better than any in our company. Lead us up the mountain!”
At first the command seemed to startle the tiny Svakaran, but then he turned northward and scrambled up the side of a knoll. The trees were less dense there, but tangled masses of shrubbery and brambles now blocked their way. The Asēkhas wielded their uttaras like scythes, hacking openings through the brush. Torg held Obhasa in front of him and burned wide avenues with sizzling bursts of blue-green flame. But when he incinerated what hindered them, he also cleared the way for the enemy.
Kusala unveiled his sling and let fly a silver bead. Another dracool smote the slope. Soon after, the chieftain and the others reached the crest of the knoll and made for a steep-sided ridge that was connected to a range of towering mountains still crowned with snow. The ridge was as sharp as the spine of a giant dune in the heart of Tējo.
When they started across, the lead wolves and their riders came into view behind them. The Porisādas launched a flurry of arrows, but none found a mark. Several Asēkhas broke off from the company and met the attackers head-on. The desert warriors moved casually, as if the wolves were mere nuisances. The horse-sized beasts tried to trample them, but the Asēkhas stepped aside and hacked at their front legs with blurring strokes from their uttaras. The wolves tumbled forward, throwing their riders, and the Porisādas were stabbed through their hearts before they could stand. In a matter of moments, ten wolves and nine riders lay dead, the lone survivor having leapt off his mount and retreated into the trees.
A dracool attempted to take advantage of the commotion, streaking toward Laylah like a diving hawk, its front talons spread wide. But a single blast of blue-green fire from Obhasa blew the baby dragon apart. A strip of charred flesh splashed against Torg’s lips. As he brushed it away, he thought to himself, it does taste like chicken.
Now they were alone on the ridge. The rest of the wolves and Porisādas hung back under the cover of the trees. Torg and his company had barely enough room to walk in single file. One misstep could lead to a deadly fall.