Actually, it was kind of nice when Arnok was silent, because it was such a rare thing. Morley and the dwarf rode double on Arnok's horse, and they argued from sunup to sundown. It was not a nasty angry argument; it was more like an old married couple's bickering. Flare suspected they argued because they didn't have anything else to do. Whatever the reason, it got more annoying day by day.
They had settled into a routine for the evening chores. Arnok and Morley would take care of setting up camp, and the cooking, while the guardians stood guard throughout the night. Philip was the most pleased with this arrangement, as he did not trust Morley, and didn't particularly trust Arnok either. Flare didn't mind, as cooking was not one of his favorite things to do.
They had traveled northeast from Morley's home, carefully skirting around the end of the Silver mountains, where the black forest pushed up against the mountains. They were careful to keep a watch for goblins or anything else that might threaten them. Once past the end of the mountain range, they followed the base of the mountains in an easterly direction, but the tension had eased dramatically, just being passed the Black forest and the threat of the goblins.
Morley had been worth ten times his weight in gold. The area around the mountains was full of ravines, bogs, and other obstacles, but with the old trapper's guidance, they made excellent time. Flare shuddered to think how long the trip would have taken without the old man. They would have been constantly back tracking and looking for a way around the obstructions.
Scratching his cheek, Flare looked ahead to the entrance to the valley, where a small river flowed. In the mid-morning light, it looked like any other narrow pass. From this point, he could see boulders around the entrance, and beyond that it seemed to open up wider. Trees were visible in the distance.
Today was the tenth day since they had left Morley's house, and they were on the doorstep into Ail-Dasharra. The valley of Ail-Dasharra was actually a pass, an opening in the mountain range. Legend said that a guardian had fought a dragon in there, fought him to a stand still. When both were on the verge of dying, the dragon had given in first and accepted the valley as its home, agreeing not to leave. Not that Flare believed there was still a dragon in the pass, he chuckled at the thought. Maybe dragon bones, but not a living dragon.
“Arnok, wait a moment.” Flare called out. Morley and Arnok were riding in front, bickering about something, as usual.
Arnok reigned his horse in. “See something,” He called out, peering around.
“No,” Flare answered. “I was wondering if you knew how long the pass is.” He watched both of them, but really the question was for Morley.
Morley shook his head, “Of course not, never been in there. Have I?” He leaned over and spat on the ground, eliciting a complaint from Arnok. “Can't be more than a couple days ride, though.”
A couple of days ride to Golteranth. The very thought made Flare nervous. What would be waiting there for him? He shivered at the thought.
Morley and Arnok were staring at him, “Anything else?” Arnok asked in his usual gruff tone. That tone was not an indication of dis-like, it was just the way he spoke.
“Yes, actually.” Flare said, not happy with what he had to say. He had been thinking about this for a several days now, and this was as good a time as any. Atock and Philip were watching too. “Morley. Arnok. I thank you for your help, but you have done all that we could ask of you. I cannot ask you to go any farther with us.” He tossed a bag of coins to Morley, “As agreed, there is your money.”
Morley looked at Flare, “You're sending us away?” Confusion in the old man's voice. Not anger, just confusion, and maybe a little relief.
Flare nodded, “You told me that you had never been in Golteranth. So, you can't help guide us through.” He motioned up the slope to the valley entrance, “Likewise with the valley. You've never been in there, so you really can't help us. The only thing you would be doing is risking your lives for our cause.”
“Lord Vinekh asked me to...” The dwarf started, but Flare spoke right over him.
“Lord Vinekh asked you to help me find Morley, which you did.” Once again he motioned towards the valley entrance, “But he never asked you to go to Golteranth with us. And I won't ask you either. We don't know what to expect once we get in there, but at the very least, I think we can expect quite a few goblins.”
“I've never ran from goblins before,” the dwarf mumbled.
Flare smiled at the dwarf, “No, but neither have you gone in there before.” He paused, considering his words, “I appreciate what both of you have done for us, but you can't help from here.”
“As you say,” Morley said smiling. It was quite obvious that he was happy to turn around and go home.
“Shut up!” Arnok snapped. Uncharacteristically, his tone actually seemed angry, not the normal bickering they were used to. “Are you sure about this, boy? You might could use us in there.”
Flare shook his head, “I won't ask you to go any farther. You have both done way more than I could have asked.”
Arnok watched him for a moment, and then nodded. Pulling his horse's head around, he moved close to Flare. “Good luck in there.” Reaching out, he grasped Flare's forearm and then rode off. The old trapper's voice could still be heard clearly.
“Now, let's travel a little north before we turn back west. It ought to be easier traveling and safer too.”
They entered the valley, shortly after Arnok and Morley started their trip home. Flare rode in front, Philip was in the middle, and Atock brought up the rear. They rode quietly, each one straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. Flare was a little jumpy, probably due to the folklore associated with this valley. He scanned the sky, wondering if a dragon ever really called this place home.
The pass looked like an ordinary mountain valley. The mountains rose frighteningly high to their left and right, although the pass did open up almost as soon as they entered. It had kept widening, until now it looked to be about a mile wide. There were no trails through the valley, and it was overgrown with vegetation. Bushes, trees, and thickets made riding in any semblance of a straight line almost impossible. Several times, they hit dead ends and had to back track.
The valley was also overflowing with animals. The tree limbs were crowded with birds, some of them familiar, but most of them totally foreign. Deer leaped across their path numerous times, and goats watched them from higher up on the mountain sides.
A river ran at the bottom, right in the middle of the pass. It wasn't overly large, maybe fifty yards across at its widest point, but it did appear deep in parts. They could see the fish swimming lazily in the shallows.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” Atock asked.
Flare was inclined to agree. Growing up in the northern forests had given him a deep love of hunting and fishing, and this looked like the perfect place. He was pleased that they hadn't come through here in the summertime. If they had, he would have been sorely tempted by those shade trees. He could remember lying under a tree as a kid, with his fishing lines in the water nearby, falling asleep listening to the water flow by. He was tempted to lie down and take a nap, now.
“Stay alert,” Philip called back. “You never know who or what might be hiding behind the next tree.”
Guiltily, Flare pulled his eyes off of the river, and back to their surroundings. He hated to admit it, but Philip was right, at least this time.
The river and trees were so relaxing, that Flare had to keep forcing his mind back to the task at hand.
They stopped for lunch a little after mid-day. They ate while sitting under a large evergreen tree, maybe twenty yards from the river. Old hard bread and salted pork left over from dinner the night before, with cold river water to wash it down. It was not the greatest meal that Flare had ever eaten. They ate in silence, with Flare finishing first. Rubbing the crumbs off of his hands,, he laid back in the soft and springy grass, putting his right arm over his face to shield his eyes. They had to get moving, but surely
it wouldn't hurt to lie here for a few minutes.
Flare woke to a boot prodding him in the side.
“Wake up, Flare. We need to get moving.” Philip's voice was jarring compared to the soothing gurgling of the river.
Popping up to the sitting position, Flare rubbed his eyes and stretched. “Where's Atock?” He asked looking around.
Philip nodded up the slope of the mountain. “He went up that way about an a half an hour ago. He wanted to get a better view of our surroundings.” He finished clearing up the items from lunch, and started straitening up the area, trying to prevent leaving any obvious tracks.
It took a moment, but Philip's words finally sunk in. “What?! Did you say a half hour ago?”
Philip stopped working, and turned towards Flare, “Yes. Why?”
Anger, mainly at himself, bubbled over him. “How long was I asleep?” He glanced up, trying to locate the location of the sun.
Philip shrugged, “About an hour. Why?”
Climbing quickly to his feet, Flare dusted himself off. “Damn it! I didn't mean to waste time.” He moved quickly to help finish cleaning up, but there wasn't anything left to do. He looked around, frustrated, but Philip had already taken care of everything.
Just then, Atock hurried back through the trees, looking worried. “We got to go. Now!”
Both Philip and Flare stopped working, and stared at Atock. “What's the matter?” Flare asked, anxiety rising in his stomach.
Atock pointed back the way they had come, “Goblins are coming up quick on our trail, must be twenty to thirty of them. They must have followed up into the pass.”
“How close?” Philip asked.
“Two miles. Maybe.” Atock was still panting hard from his run back.
“Mount up,” Flare called dashing to his horse. “Atock, you bring up the rear.” He cursed under his breath, his falling asleep could have cost them their lives, thank the gods that Atock decided to climb the slope.
They ran the horses as fast they could go, given the rough terrain, but Flare kept them close to the river. The riding along the bank was much smoother than trying to ride through the trees and thickets. It didn't take long, before the horses were sweating and blowing hard, but they didn't ease up on them. Running their horses to death, would be bad, but not as bad as being caught by the goblins.
Their surroundings seemed to fly past, but they were too busy to pay much attention. They were gradually forced away from the river as trees started growing right up against the shore bank, hanging out over the river. He did notice that the slope of the ground was rising, not drastically, but it was rising. Off in the distance, the river turned more violent, and gave way to rapids. He didn't find the gurgling of the river so relaxing anymore.
He led them along what seemed to be a deer trail. It appeared seldom used, but it was better than charging through the forest at break neck speed. At least it was a little better, not much though as the shrubs and tree limbs whipped them across the face and arms. As they moved farther along the trail, they gradually slowed their pace down. The trail was barely deserving of the name, and it was difficult to keep up a fast pace.
They kept riding through the afternoon; all three of them kept looking over their shoulders, trying to see any followers. Flare kept turning around so much, that he made his neck sore over time, but he kept right on checking.
Gradually the pass opened up. It looked like it was roughly in the shape of a diamond. Then had entered in one of the small narrow points of the diamond, and now the valley was getting wider. As the day wore on, it widened to its maximum point, and then started getting narrower again.
The deer trail wound first north and then back south, winding through the trees and shrubs. Late in the day, the slope of the trail turned back downwards, which at least made the riding easier.
Birds chirped at them, and squirrels chittered from the overhanging branches, but Flare barely noticed. They rushed on down the trail. Frowning, he realized that their path was being chosen for them by the wanderings of the deer. He pushed that thought from his mind, it wasn't helping after all.
They pushed on through the day. The pass started out in the shape of a diamond, and just before sundown, they passed through the far end of the diamond. At this point, the pass was no more than twenty yards across. The valley opened back up again for a short distance, before narrowing again at the far end of the pass. He pointed to the mountains, “Judging by the mountain range, we're maybe three quarters of the way through.”
“We can't keep going in the dark,” Atock called out from the rear. “We'll maim our horses if we do.” It wasn't really dark yet, but it was getting there, and it was going to be a dark night as the overcast sky would surely hide the moon.
Flare did not want to stop, not at all, but if they didn't, then the horses wouldn't be of any good to them and they still needed them. It was a long way still to Mount Ogular.
Reigning in, he looked up at the mountain towering over them; it was black against the darkening sky. “Fine, let's make camp over there.” He pointed at a small clump of trees up against the base of the mountain.
Flare slid from his saddle, exhaustion washing over him. They had to sleep fast and then run through the daylight again tomorrow, that should get them out of the pass in the early afternoon. Then, all they had to do, was lose the goblins in the flat lands beyond.
He barely noticed the pain in his legs and back, there wasn't enough time to bother with pain. “Philip, see to the horses. Atock, pitch camp, but I want to be able to leave in a moment's notice.”
They both turned to look at Flare, “Where are you going?” They both asked, almost in unison.
Sighing, he pointed up the steep slope of the mountain. “I'm going to climb up a little bit and see if I can spot our pursuers.” He didn't wait for them to respond, but instead he started off at a slow jog.
It took a while for him to find a way up the slope. It was dangerously steep and in spots it was almost vertical, but Flare struggled up the loose gravel strewn incline. Twice, he nearly fell, but both times, he caught himself at the last moment. After about a half an hour, he reached a large ledge that was easily a hundred yards long. He pulled himself onto the ledge, and lay there for a moment, resting. After a few moments, he climbed to his feet. From this point, he could see both the large diamond shape portion of the pass that they had ridden through all day long, and the much smaller portion of the pass that they had just entered around dusk.
The sun had set while Flare was climbing, and the valley was in dark shadows. He scrutinized the valley, back up the way that had come, looking for any movement or sign of their pursuers. Nothing.
Flare stood there for several moments, trying desperately to see any sign of their pursuers. He should have been happy that he couldn't see them, perhaps they were far enough ahead of their pursuers, but somehow he didn't believe it.
And then a strange thought occurred to him. A perfectly simple thought, and in all honesty, something he should have thought of a long time ago. Feeling like a fool, Flare relaxed his mind and started listening to the quiet rhythm of his breathing. After a moment, he felt the familiar sinking feeling and his limbs felt numb and heavy. Almost without trying, he felt his spirit flow from him. It was a wonderful and at the same time, terrifying feeling.
With his senses sharpened by the sorcery, Flare once again scrutinized the valley, looking for any sign of the goblins. The dense foliage blocked him from seeing everything, but still he was amazed at how different the valley looked. From the small shrubs growing on the mountain side, to the river running over the rocks, everywhere he looked there was an abundance of life. The wind blew, and the trees whipped around. There was nothing unusual in that, but he could hear the limbs creaking, and see the veins in the leaves.
Despite the almost sexual feeling that sorcery had given him, he still had not located the goblins. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he reached out with his spirit. There was no other way
to describe it. He sent his spirit flowing back into the valley, looking for any signs of life. It didn't take long to realize that it was a mistake, as he became aware of the teeming life of the valley; everything from small birds in their nests, to the fish in the river, to the worms in the earth. They all were found by his spirit, and it felt like they were overloading him.
Quickly, Flare pulled his spirit back. He kneeled down for a moment, and panted. He felt like he had run up the mountain slope for an hour straight. After a few moments, his breathing slowed, and he looked back out over the valley. 'Let's try that again.' Reaching out again with his spirit, this time he sent it looking for a particular type of life, not just life in general. Thinking hard about goblins, he let his spirit flow back into the valley. It wormed its way around the trees and between the rocks, searching out what he had sent it looking for. Just before he was ready to give up, he found them. The goblins were gathered under a small clump of trees, but the best part was that they had fallen behind. They had to be at least four miles behind now, perhaps a littler farther.
Greatly relieved, Flare headed back down the mountain.
Derek sat on the floor and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept much in the last two days, instead he had spent those days listening and watching as Orval was being slowly tortured to death. His eyes were red from lack of sleep; it was hard to sleep while a man you knew was screaming. Oh, Orval didn't scream constantly, there were times when he passed out and for a while, there was a blessed quiet. But those times didn't last too long, and then Ersha would start back in on him.
Orval was still laying on the table in between the cells, still chained in the same manner as when the guardians had entered the room, but he looked a lot worse now. His left hand was now missing two fingers, and both feet were missing toes. The fingers and toes that still remained were a bloody mess. Finger nails and toe nails had been pulled off, and sharp needles had been pushed into the soft tissue under where the nails had once been.
Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Page 41