Hand of Fire: Book 1 of the Master of the Tane

by Thomas Rath

  Raising his head from the mud covered path, he caught his breath as he saw what was on the other side. Just below him, matching ever forward, was the huge, lumbering mass of trolls. It was a dark blotch against a sea of green grass eating the landscape like a large serpent and then spitting it out behind them in a heap of sludge as they trampled along. Dor lay flat, watching their movements, before sneaking down the hill after them. There didn’t seem to be a rearguard. He supposed they were either not smart enough to place one or felt too sure of their numbers to care. Plus, with the huge scar they were leaving in the ground at their passing stealth was not really a consideration. He decided on caution anyway though, not anxious to confront so many trolls with no place to run for cover.

  With the cloud cover, he wasn’t quite sure of the time but knew they would have to stop soon. He would just have to bide his time until they entered another grove or came upon another village. The desolation of the last village flashed again into his mind. “How many more will die” he said sullenly, “before you are safe, Tam?”

  The day drifted towards evening without any change; the trolls still marched on. Dor kept his distance giving them plenty of room to lead knowing they were not going to lose him. The rain still came down in a steady shower soaking everything while the countryside still hadn’t given way to any forested land. Tam must be hating this weather, he thought trying unsuccessfully to find humor in the idea. The ArVen hate the rain.

  The day wore on, as did his mood. He tried to remain upbeat, convinced that he could rescue Tam and get them back home, but the doubts continued to hammer against his hope, slowly breaking it down. Becoming so enshrouded by the darkness that seemed to rest over him he nearly missed it. There, on the edge of the trail, was a grouping of tracks that broke off and headed towards the southeast. He stopped to examine the prints and quickly determined them to be a day or two old and, most importantly, not made by trolls.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said out loud, a smile playing across his face. “It can’t be. These look like Chufa tracks.”

  His smile faded to a frown as he turned and stared off towards the troll mob. “What about Tam? I can’t just leave her.” What was he to do? Tam needed him right now and he had to help her, but the thought of more Chufa on this side of the mountains was almost more than he could bear. But how did they get here? Could it be a rescue party come to help them? That idea didn’t seem likely but what else could it be? He sat in brooding silence listening to the distant thunder while trying to decide on the best course of action. The empty village flashed in his mind again.

  “I have to get help,” he stated flatly. He still didn’t like the idea of leaving Tam behind but he had to think beyond just her. “Mother knows it would be easier to get Tam back with the help of others,” he said as if trying to convince himself. “I’ll catch up to the Chufa and then bring them back to help. Then we can figure out how to deal with these trolls.”

  Another roll of thunder boomed through the sky as he bid farewell to the distant troll horde turning towards the trail of Chufa imprints. “Hold on Tam,” he breathed. “I’ll be back with help soon.”

  A dark and foreboding night quickly fell across the unfamiliar landscape bringing with it an increase of the storm’s ferocity. The wind had picked up and the rain beat down harder turning the plains into mush. Although Dor did not mind the rain, he was exhausted. He had been following after this new trail for two or three hours now without any success. He had thought of seeking out some sort of shelter to pass the night and sleep but he knew that to do so would risk losing the trail that was already disappearing in the deluge.

  His body felt like it had been under water for days and the wind only made things worse. The cool temperature was starting to get to him and he began to shiver. The joy and hope of finding more Chufa was starting to wash away now with each minute that passed. Doubt began to force its way back into his thoughts. Had he done the right thing in leaving Tam? How come he had not found the other Chufa yet?

  The wind blew the rain like rocks into his face pelting him with a vengeance as he lowered his head and pushed helplessly on, deeper into the storm. Waves of fatigue began crashing over his body causing him to falter in his steps often sending him stumbling to the ground. Each time he got up thinking of nothing but moving on, almost forgetting what he was searching for. Flashes of lightning lit the ground in loud bursts lending an occasional glimpse of his surroundings but burned out quickly, leaving the land a veil of darkness too thick to penetrate even with his night vision.

  Hours seemed to have passed without change. The trail had long been washed from existence leaving pools of muddy water almost ankle deep, but still he continued on blindly. Many times he thought of turning back but realized that with the Chufa trail washed away he had nothing to guide him back to the trolls. His only hope was to continue on and hope that by some miracle of fate he stumbled upon them or they on him.

  Reaching the peak of a small hill, he tried to search the land ahead but was unable to pierce the darkness any further than a few feet. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he took a step forward and loosed some rocks sending him headlong down the slope. He turned head over heals in a grand display of acrobatics before landing with a splash face first in a great puddle of mud at the base of the hill. He lay in a heap covered with the strong smelling muck that had cushioned his fall and wondered at the terrible deed that had cursed him to such misfortune. Must have been the naked Kinpa I strung up, he thought with a grin deciding at the same time that it still had been worth it. Rising slowly from his bed of ooze, he crawled from the pool and lay back on the grassy side of the hill letting the torrents of rain wash the mud from his body and wondered with surprise at the relative lack of pain he felt from his collarbone. He tried to remember how long it had been since the break but could not account for the possible weeks that had unknowingly passed him by. Must be almost healed.

  He sat up just as another flash of lightning lit the area in a burst of light revealing a small over hang not too far beyond the puddle from which he’d just emerged. The thought of the tiny shelter was like sugar to his mind as he gave in to the exhaustion that seemed to engulf him like a warm blanket. What’s the use anyway, he reasoned, the trails been gone for at least an hour and I can’t see a thing. For all I know, I could be heading back in the direction I came from.

  He fought slowly through the mud sinking almost to his waist before rising out of it on the other side and collapsing under the shelter. The rain blew over the top of the hill he was now against affording him a small, but grateful amount of cover. He leaned back trying to think through the day and decide his next move but was quickly overcome with fatigue that carried him off into a deep sleep.

  When he finally opened his sleep-encrusted eyes, he was greeted by a blue sky and the warming rays of the noonday sun. He emerged stiffly from his tiny sanctuary and stretched gingerly as he looked up with a smile at the warming sun splashing its rays across his face. Climbing to the top of the small hill he watched the dark clouds disappearing slowly over the horizon to the north and knew that the rest of his journey should be dry. Turning around, he stared off to the south and surveyed the land he would have to cross and frowned at the continual rolling prairie and small hills that greeted him. His eyes continued their inspection ending at a dark mass that rose out of the ground and kissed the horizon at least a days run from where he stood. He smiled gratefully. Maybe he’d been forgiven after all for the gags from his early childhood for, unless he missed his guess, he was looking at the outskirts of a large forest.

  “If there are Chufa around,” he said with a sudden chuckle, “that’s where they’ll be.”

  He quickly ate the remaining food he’d retrieved from the raided village and then started out at a dead run for the trees. The chill in the air soon faded as his body warmed up to his activity and beads of sweat gathered and ran down his face and chest. Being out in the open, and confident of his relative safety, Dor made no
attempts at hiding his passing or silencing his run but instead pressed forward, drowning himself in the exhilaration of running free with the wind as the world coursed through his veins and made his spirit sing.

  He ran most of the day, only stopping twice to drink from a small pond left by the previous day’s rain. Before he knew it, the sun was sinking lower in the western sky throwing long shadows across the land bringing with them the chill of the fast approaching night. The forest had been rising steadily in the distance throughout the day as if growing right before his eyes and was now only a few miles off. His pace remained constant knowing that he should reach the trees just as the last fragments of light stubbornly resisted the strengthening darkness as night overtook the land. He would reach his Chufa brothers soon and then they would return and free Tam. He thought of her and the state she had been in when he had escaped and felt a strange pang in his chest. She was so fragile and small and he felt such a strong need to protect her. He felt guilty about leaving her.

  Suddenly, the forest loomed up in front of him. He had been right in his estimations of distance as he entered the foreign woods just as the last glimmers of light gave themselves over to the night sky. The forest was not unlike the familiar Ardath where he had spent his whole life so it gave him a sense of ease as he slowed to a walk and moved deeper into the woods. At first, the trees didn’t seem as thick. But, as he continued on, he found the forest floor littered with thickets of all different kinds that slowed his progress and, every so often, forced him to take extra time by making him backtrack and go around. With the help of the rising moon that now filtered down through the limbs above, he fed himself quite well on the berries and roots that were scattered about making the best meal he had had for quite some time.

  The friendly sounds of a forest at night started up in a chorus soothing him into a sense that he had come home until a strange noise suddenly touched his sensitive ears. He stood silent for a long moment trying to determine the origin and distance of what he now thought was singing. He did not recognize the tune, but he was sure it had to be coming from the Chufa he searched for. Excitement and relief battled for dominance as he raced through the trees following after the song that had now erupted into peels of laughter.

  Not too much further ahead, a fire’s light suddenly snuck through the trees as if beckoning him to hurry in and warm himself with its heat and the companionship of his own kind. He raced on, not worried about stealth or silence now overcome with the relief of his discovery. He had been right after all.

  He reached the ring of light cast off by the fire in mere moments and burst through the trees letting out a call of greeting as he did so. Halting his advance, he just avoided running through the point of a humongous dagger that was now pressed firmly against his chest. He stared at the hairy faces that surrounded him. Each held a dagger similar to the one that was pressed hard against his skin, drawing out a small trickle of blood. Time seemed to stop. Dor couldn’t believe his eyes. These were not Chufa. But if not Chufa, then what?

  Suddenly, one of them spoke drawing the eyes of others. “By all that is holy, what is it?”

  Dor cocked an eyebrow not knowing if he had actually spoken or just gurgled in his throat. What had he gotten himself into this time? He cursed for not being more careful in this strange land. Desperate, he decided a word of greeting might be appropriate and hopefully ease the tension. “DorMar Eelo Sho Tonkonochir.”

  He was wrong.

  Surprised looks crossed his captor’s faces and every one took a quick step back. Then, something blunt hit him on the back of the skull, knocking him to the ground. His head spun and he could feel the blood gently running down his cheek. He tried to get up and defend himself but another blow came almost instantly sending him back to the dirt and ending all thoughts of retaliation.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The doe inched cautiously toward the base of the ominous mountains stopping often to look and listen for any signs of danger. The previous day’s rain and the approach of an early spring had left a fairly large pool of water where the deer could quench its thirst before continuing on with its search for food. Tiny sprouts of grass sprang up around the water’s edge offering an irresistible snack that was rapidly devoured. With one last scan for danger, the doe put her nose to the water and began to drink enjoying the cool, refreshing taste as it slid down her gullet washing away her thirst.

  She lifted her head suddenly, as if sensing an imminent attack, and quickly checked her surroundings, every muscle tense and ready to react. The only sound to be heard was that of a small gust howling down the mountainside and retreating out over the vast prairie. The doe’s instincts screamed for her to run but she could not quite figure out from where the danger came. All was silent. The deer’s heart raced and its body shivered with the growing sense of doom that filled the area in a thick cloud of terror. She wanted to dash into a hard run and be rid of the foe that invisibly invaded the waterhole but her muscles would not respond. She was frozen in her horror waiting for the final stroke of death that she knew came for her. Suddenly, she was ripped from the ground and raised high into the air as giant talons with razor sharp claws dug mercilessly into her flesh. She flinched once before her neck snapped, instantly ending her simple life.

  The dragon keened in triumph as it rose higher and higher into the clear, blue sky holding fast to its morning meal so easily caught. Racing through the air it quickly reached dizzying heights extending high above the ground, becoming a mere spot of black to any who watched from below. Tucking in its leathery wings, the dragon slowed before reaching its peak and then, spreading them again, hovered gently on the strong up currents of wind. Peering down to the land below, it loosened its grip on the limp carcass and watched for a moment as the doe plummeted back towards the earth. It watched in amusement as the deer continued to fall, picking up speed as it reached to meet the land from whence it had been taken.

  With another high-pitched cry, the dragon pushed its head down and drew in its wings. With frightening velocity, its massive body dipped and shot through the air following after the deer that had, by now, already fallen half the distance to the ground. The dragon’s wings shot out, flapping furiously, giving it even more speed while quickly closing the distance between itself and the doe.

  The carcass neared the ground below and it appeared as if it might reach the soil before the dragon could close the gap. Stretching its neck and pointing its tail, the dragon’s wings increased their already blistering pace pushing even harder to reach the earth before its meal. Drool shot from the dragon’s mouth as it inched forward mere feet from its prey. The land came up quickly, threatening the dragon’s life with a massive collision of bodies when its jaws reached out like lightning and grasped the deer from the air. Thrusting its tail down and flexing back its wings and head, the dragon leveled its body and pulled out of its dive just barely scraping its claws on the soft mud below. Gliding with ease mere inches above the ground it shot across the landscape before once again lifting slowly into the cool air. The doe was quickly devoured, crushed in the dragon’s powerful jaws before, with a scream of defiance, it raised itself into the morning sky climbing higher and higher over the approaching mountains on its journey toward the western horizon.

  The afternoon sun was beating relentlessly against the dragon’s sleek back by the time it caught sight of its destination. Leaving the mountains behind, it circled once in the air before dipping down at a steady pace toward the ground below. Reaching a comfortable altitude where nothing in the barren region could escape its keen eyes, it leveled off its flight and lazily pushed forward. It was not too long before a lone peak lifted grimly from the desert floor reaching high into the bright sky casting a forbidding shadow across the land. This was the Raven’s Eye. High atop its peaks rested a large castle that jutted out with spires and many twisted arches that hinted at the evil that resided there.

  The dragon raised its massive body higher into the air and then circled idly
above the fortress as if waiting for something. Long minutes passed before it finally released a screech of contempt and then landed his gargantuan body into the castle’s courtyard filling it to capacity with its bulk. A large oak door sat at the top of a magnificent stairway where the dragon now concentrated its glowing eyes that smoldered with ire and contempt. Another high-pitched shriek escaped its throat before the door slowly opened.

  Resdin casually leaned up against the doorframe and gazed at the dragon with a mocking smile. “So, I see you have finally decided to grace us with your presence – how kind.”

  The dragon hissed growing more irritable. “Where is the old one?”

  “Now, now,” Resdin said smoothly shaking his finger in the dragon’s face, “let’s not get impatient. After all, you seem to forget that you are the one who is late. So now, you shall have a turn at waiting.”

  “Do not toy with me mortal,” the dragon boomed raising its head as if to strike. “You forget yourself and with whom you speak.”

  Resdin pushed himself from the wall and stretched to his full height. “And you forget whom you serve, dragon,” he spat while a strange, blue glow surrounded his outstretched hands. The air crackled with enough tension to suffocate any unfortunate soul who might happen upon the two rivals as they clashed in a battle of iron wills. A tiny creak sounded from the door, instantly robbing the air of its thickness as an old man passed feebly onto the stairs. Resdin’s hands instantaneously lost their glow and the dragon’s head dropped quickly.

  “So,” the old man said softly with a voice that crackled like a fire, “I see you have finally come. Now,” he continued, his tone becoming tight and his eyes flashing with anger, “why don’t you take your human form so you can tell me your news. You are two days past the time you were told to return!”