by I K Spencer
"Stay stranger. You and I have no quarrel," Anthen said without hope as he unsheathed his own blade.
His former schoolmate gave no sign that he’d heard the words, swinging the oversized blade in a wide arc at Anthen’s head. Anthen blocked the slash but the force of the blow sent him staggering back. Caluso bore in on him and kept him off balance with repeated hacks, all of which Anthen parried but each was delivered with such a force as to nearly knock him off his feet. It felt as if the man were trying to hammer his way through Anthen's sword and each block sent a jolt of pain up through the younger man's arms.
Anthen finally regained his balance and used his quick feet to dodge some of the blows. A crowd was beginning to gather, the last thing the guardsman wanted to happen. A small, chubby man, presumably the shop owner, came charging toward them but shied away without uttering a word when he saw the size and skill of the two combatants.
"Caluso do not do this," Anthen pleaded, trying to break through the spell. "Remember the academy?"
There was no sign that Caluso even heard the words.
Anthen fought defensively, not wishing to kill or maim a fellow guardsman, especially one suffering the same, terrible fate from which he had barely escaped. He knew killing the man might be the only way to free Caluso from the hellish nightmare he now endured but Anthen desperately hoped that if Cidrl were killed, the spell on Caluso and all his other comrades would be broken. As he dodged and moved, his mind frantically searched for a way to escape without killing the man or worse, losing the deadly contest. Finally, looking toward the rear of the shop, an idea formed in his head.
An open loft extended from the rear of the building, covering about half of the small shop. A ladder offered the only access to the storage area above and the guardsman spied a single support pole in the center along the front edge of the upper floor. If the beam could be knocked free, the loft and all its contents should come crashing down, hopefully on Caluso's sizable head.
He maneuvered toward the back of the building, drawing Caluso in his wake. He reached the ladder that led to the loft and stumbled as he tried to side-step it. He fell on his back and immediately rolled past the ladder just ahead of a slash aimed to sever his head, leaving the ladder between them. The towering guardsman smashed it to kindling, then came on.
With lightning quickness, Anthen darted around behind the larger man and swung his blade at the only support pole for the loft above them. Anthen felt the shock of steel meeting the solid wood post. To his horror, not only did the support not fracture, but also his weapon was firmly embedded in the side of the sturdy post. He tugged with all his might but the weapon did not budge.
Caluso's advance forced him to give up the futile effort. He retreated a few steps and considered the handbow in his cloak but then he thought of another way. Caluso rushed him with a wild slash. Anthen ducked under the thrust and pushed Caluso past him, then ran back to the pole and his sword. He feigned another try at the sword then, as though he had given up the fight, stood with his back against the wooden column. He raised his hands for mercy. Caluso gathered himself for the kill and swung the large sword in a wide arc meant to cut Anthen in two.
Anthen ducked under the blade at the last second and heard the snap as Caluso's heavy blade cut clean through the six-inch post above his head. Anthen dove from under the loft but to his shock, the unsupported second floor did not come crashing down.
Caluso started forward to finish him when suddenly Anthen heard a thunderous crack from above. Caluso reacted briefly, instinctively drawn by the sound of the unsupported cross beam fracturing, then dropped his eyes once again to his quarry. Anthen winced as the loft and all its contents came crashing down, burying the spellbound guardsman completely.
Anthen grabbed his sword and ran past the shocked crowd for the door. He prayed that Caluso was alive but could not wait around to find out. Once outside the shop he slowed to a less conspicuous pace and headed for the stables.
Teya was already there, waiting with the horses and their supplies. They quickly packed up and slipped out the back to avoid the main street. Neither spoke until they had ridden clear of the southern edge of town and disappeared into the wooded hills.
"What happened?" Teya asked.
"I was ambushed."
"Is it Cidrl's handiwork?"
Anthen told her about Caluso and the attack. She shivered at the thought of the mindless killer, reminding herself that it could have been Anthen in the spellbound wretch's place.
"Do you think we may be followed?" Teya asked.
Anthen shrugged. "There is no way to know. There might be others and who knows what Caluso might do if he is unhurt. If so, and his mission is to follow, no force in the realm will stop him from trying."
The thought of being pursued by the methodical killer made the two warriors eager to get far away as quickly as possible. They rode south in the early morning sun for a few miles before turning west. They stopped at the first water they came to and Anthen filled up all their containers while the warrior-woman changed back into her normal trail attire. In another hour they had descended from the foothills around Portal and were into the Misean Desert once more, this time for a much longer stint.
As they rode once again into the bleached desert, Anthen could not dispel the nightmarish image of Caluso as a soulless killer and he shed a few silent tears for the once-friendly young man whom he had revered.
Chapter 38
Fully supplied and now both under good mounts, the two warriors moved at a steady pace through the wasteland, under the endless, scorching sun. The experienced desert traveler of the two, Teya once again took the lead and chose their path. They kept mostly to a western bearing but she would veer to the north or south somewhat for better terrain or, more importantly, to look for water.
Anthen had thought that the Misean Desert was waterless but Teya explained that there was water, though not on the surface. The trick was knowing where to dig. One way lay in finding a wolf's den; the clever creatures always located their underground lairs with access to water. In fact, if the desert travelers were desperate or foolish, they would always find a pool of water inside the burrow somewhere, though it would likely prove to be their last drink. When the wolf dens were not present, she looked for a soft depression with more plant life than usual. In either case they would dig down a few feet and use a bowl to gather the cloudy water that gathered at the bottom of the hole. It was not very refreshing but kept them and the horses watered, plus the horses could graze upon the cluster of nearby plants.
The travelers rode throughout the day and camped in the darkness, taking turns at sleeping. Anthen even learned to relax in the midst of the deadly insects and snakes. As the days passed, their skins darkened from exposure to the endless sun even though they covered themselves completely during the searing midday hours. Teya taught Anthen all she knew of the desert and he was soon able to find water and choose good campsites.
The pair had just stopped to make camp for their fourth night since fleeing Portal when Anthen saw smoke, not far off to the west. They hadn't seen a single sign of another traveler nor did the guardsman expect to; so far as the realm was concerned, this barren land was practically nonexistent. The two warriors discussed the unforeseen matter and decided to take a closer look. The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon and it was a dangerous time to be moving about but they did not dare wait until morning.
Taking only their weapons, the warriors went to investigate on foot. They moved quickly over the next ridge and jogged across the next valley to the base of the next rise, the last between them and the source of the unexpected smoke. It was still light when they carefully scaled the loose gravel of the hill and crept the last few feet to the top.
The guardsman's jaw dropped in shock; spread out across the length of the next valley lay a camp much larger than he had expected from the amount of smoke. There were a number of small fires and too many tents to bother counting. He and Teya exchanged a
worried glance, then both raised their glasses for a closer look.
The site seemed empty; Anthen moved his glass across the sizable camp but saw no inhabitants. He spied no one tending any of the fires and he had thought the tents deserted until he spotted movement in the camp's perimeter. He trained the scope on a sentry and nearly gasped out loud.
"Is that what I think it is?" Teya whispered, attracted by the same movement.
"I fear it is," he whispered, "though, like the unicorns, I thought they were just a myth."
Anthen had personally never beheld one of the fabled apparitions before but he had heard plenty of tales. The figure was leaning against a large rock a short distance from one of the watchfires. He was very slight and pale with dark eyes. His tattered clothes hung like rags on the bony figure and his weapon, a dirty sword, seemed too large for the frail body. The guardsman dropped the glass, fearing the wraith would sense his attention.
The story of the Hraedari, the name given to the mythical creatures by Anthen's people, was hazy. No one, at least no one in the realm, knew their roots. The guardsman associated them with the pair's destination, the magical wild lands to the north. Ancient tales said they were part mortal and part spirit and some believed they were dead warriors come back to life. He had heard stories at the academy describing them as crafty demons escaping certain death; direct arrow hits and sword thrusts that somehow missed.
Teya touched his shoulder and pointed along the ridge, where another thin sentry was making his way round heading in their direction. Anthen pointed back over his shoulder towards their own camp and the two warriors crept carefully down the ridge. They made their way back in the fading light, moving so slowly that dusk had ended by the time they reached the campsite.
"Anthen are Hraedari known to range the Misean?" she asked once they were settled in their camp and eating a cold supper instead of risking a fire.
He shrugged. "The only tales I have heard always place them in the wild lands to the north. Do they rove the desert near Arnedon?"
"I too, have only heard of encounters in the mountains surrounding Baenkeep or the nearby elven forests within Valhaan."
"And what about their number?" he asked. "In the tales I heard as a child, they ran in small bands. There must be hundreds in a camp that size."
She nodded solemnly. "Such a gathering is not a good omen."
"I fear it is more than a bad omen."
Teya's head shot up in alarm. "You see Cidrl's hand in this?"
"This is too unusual and dangerous to be ignored as chance. I would guess we are nearly due north of Carael. It is perfect placement for an ambush on the royal palace or to block any intervening force sent from the realm to thwart his plans."
She considered his opinion for a moment. "What shall we do?"
He pondered the situation, which might be even worse than he first thought. If Garrick successfully warned the kingdom, then the vast majority of King Jamen's armies would be sent to reinforce Dolonhold, leaving Carael and the Isaencarl heartland virtually unprotected. If the Hraedari planned to move south into the realm, thousands would be slaughtered!
The guardsman sorely missed Garrick's experience. What could the two of them do though? Even though the Hraedari presented a huge threat, their mission against Cidrl must not be jeopardized. He realized that a sending a warning was their only possible action but he could not fathom a way to do that.
Anthen's grim countenance softened slightly as an idea occurred to him. What would happen if they made the Hraedari think they had been discovered? If the unearthly horde thought they no longer had the element of surprise, that might make them reconsider an attack on Carael if they expected stronger resistance. It might even send them back to the northern wild lands but at the very least should slow their advance southward.
"I have a plan," he finally announced after several minutes of working out a scheme in his head. "I want to deceive them into thinking they have been discovered. If nothing else, concern that Isaencarl is ready for them should slow them a bit.
"So what is your plan?" She agreed with his reasoning but looked far from being convinced they should risk being caught by the Hraedari, who did not take prisoners. Worse still, it was written that death by their hand meant an eternity as one of their number.
Anthen laid out the plan and as he expected, Teya proved less than enthusiastic about it, partly because any risk to their main objective was not a good idea and also, because most of the peril fell upon him. In the end, though, she grudgingly agreed to go along, admitting she might feel differently if the host of wraiths were poised to attack her homeland.
The ploy called for a busy night so they set to work immediately, yet another concern of Teya's due to the danger of moving around in the desert after dark. They crept back toward the Hraedari camp, leading the horses and moving extra slowly to avoid the entirely mortal but still dangerous creatures that could be heard all around them. Once at the base of the ridge from which they had observed the camp earlier, they circled some distance to the south of the enemy encampment. There, they spent the next few hours carefully searching in the moonlight for a suitable hiding spot big enough to conceal Anthen and Rorc. It was key to his plan and he breathed a sigh of relief when they finally found it—a narrow cleft in a rock escarpment nearly invisible from the nearby flats.
The two warriors set up a camp fifty feet from the rocks and started a small fire, piling their gear beside it so no light could be seen from the direction of the Hraedari camp. Teya laid out her bedroll and rested while Anthen kept watch.
Shortly before dawn, he roused her and helped her pack up the tawny mare. They spoke little and he sensed her unease about the risk they were taking. When ready to leave, they kissed and embraced and when they parted, the guardsman noted that her blue-gray eyes were shiny with tears.
"You be careful!" she whispered sharply as she climbed astride her mount. "Stay hidden until you are sure the crafty devils are not around."
"And you take care, riding in the dark," he reminded her. "I will see you by midday due west of their camp. If I am not there, then you must go on without me."
"Fare well Guardsman." Teya leaned down and caressed Anthen's cheek, then turned and rode toward the south.
"You as well" he called after her before watching her disappear into the darkness.
The guardsman moved Rorc out of the camp, then went through it carefully, altering the site to look as though only a single inhabitant had used the site instead of two. He left the mark made by Teya's bedroll but brushed away the footprints in the area along with their tracks leading to the site from the northeast. By the approach of dawn he felt satisfied that from the tracks, it appeared that a single rider had camped and ridden away to the south.
As the sun peeked above the horizon, he carefully made his way up the hill toward the Hraedari camp. Once there, he slowly scanned the quiet encampment with his scope until he had located all the sentries, ensuring they were far enough away not to spoil the ruse. Satisfied, he crept back down the hill to where Rorc foraged the sparse vegetation for breakfast.
He mounted up and rode back up the ridge, neither carefully nor slowly. He slackened the pace somewhat at the top but continued down toward the Hraedari camp without stealth. He rode for some distance, then pulled to a sudden stop, as though just now realizing he had stumbled upon some kind of threat.
He dismounted and led Rorc to a boulder for cover. From there he eyed the sentries to see if he had been observed yet. Sure enough, there was one moving along the western rim of the valley toward his position while another ran down into the camp. Anthen took out his telescope and pretended to get a good look at the camp while keeping one eye on the advancing wraith.
When Anthen judged the sentry to be close enough, he pretended to notice the Hraedari for the first time and dashed for Rorc. As he raced from the valley, Anthen finally heard horns of alarm from within the camp. He rode hard all the way back to his campsite, leapt from the saddl
e, and led Rorc along a carefully chosen route, selected to leave no tracks, over a series of flat rocks to their hiding spot. He pushed the big bay all the way to the rear of the crevasse before peering out of the entrance. Seeing that none of his pursuers had reached the ridge yet, he knew that the deception hadn’t been witnessed. He moved back beside the horse and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. Within a few minutes he heard the rumble of hooves, signaling the approach of at least a dozen riders. He could see their dust rising in the sky. As expected, the mounted party halted near the campsite he had carefully prepared. He readied his weapons and waited. There was an ominous silence; either the Hraedari did not speak or they spoke in whispers. He felt certain that the subterfuge would work on mortals but he had no idea what special powers the preternatural Hraedari might possess.
The agonizing silence continued and Anthen's anxiety mounted with each passing minute. The wraiths must be inspecting the camp very closely. He was about to risk a peek when he suddenly heard the pounding of hooves once more. After a few moments he could tell the horses were moving away to the south, hopefully following Teya's tracks. With at least an hour head start they couldn’t possibly overtake her so he did not worry.
He sat listening long after the departing riders could no longer be heard. All was quiet but his senses screamed to him of danger nearby, perhaps more riders coming or sentries watching from the ridge. He waited a full hour in the growing heat and heard nothing but still the feeling of nearby danger did not abate. He waited another hour, then decided to risk a look. The guardsman crawled toward the opening to the cleft on his belly. He pressed himself against the hot rock and slowly raised his head.
A lone Hraedari sat in the middle of the campsite on the ground where Teya's bedroll had lain. The creature's hooded head was down so Anthen thought he might have escaped detection but as soon as he started to duck again, the head shot up and the guardsman nearly cried out in horror as he beheld the ghoul from a close distance. Its skull seemed to shine through its colorless flesh and the eyes were entirely black, as if it possessed no eyes at all. The specter's jaw opened in a freakish grin.