by I K Spencer
Anthen scrambled to his feet as the wraith seemed to float up at him, covering the several paces separating them in a flash. The guardsman sprang for the demon's throat but released it immediately; the flesh felt hot and foul and he recoiled with revulsion. He kicked hard at its chest but his foot missed somehow, as though he had kicked a curtain, and he lost his footing.
As he jumped to his feet again, the grinning skull-figure drew a long, curved sword that looked real enough. Anthen drew his own blade and the two began to spar. He felt mesmerized when he looked at the apparition's eyes so he avoided looking at the hideous face, though it felt awkward, for he usually watched his opponent's eyes.
Even with this handicap, however, the guardsman's skill with the weapon surpassed the Hraedari's, though the creature's considerable strength perhaps evened the odds. Anthen pressed the attack and was about to disarm the wraith when it, perhaps realizing this, suddenly turned and fled up the hill toward its camp. Knowing the Hraedari must not be allowed to reach its comrades and spoil their plan, Anthen gave chase. After just a few strides he knew he could not close the gap so he drew his handbow and fired an arrow between the retreating figure's shoulder blades, which seemed to have no affect. He knew the bolt had found its mark but it seemed to have passed straight through the apparition.
The Hraedari stopped to look around, probably figuring on the usual delay to reload a normal bow. Its taunting grin changed quickly to a look of confusion as its gaze fell to the small weapon in his hand, then, for the first time, the leer disappeared as the Hraedari saw the second arrow. It started to turn to resume its flight but the delay was just long enough for the already-loosed bolt to hit the ghoul square the forehead. The wraith seemed to fade from view as it dropped to the ground.
Anthen approached cautiously and, to his amazement, saw that only the creature's robes and weapons remained, along with his bolt, which bore no sign of the fatal shot. Further up the hill he spied his first arrow. He didn't want to touch the unnatural being's robe or weapon but he had to hide them. He dug a hole back inside the crevasse and did not relax until the all remnants of the ghoul were buried and out of his sight.
Working quickly, the guardsman next brushed away his tracks, noting with unease that his were the only tracks to be found. He then led Rorc from the hiding spot and over a rocky path to leave no hoof prints, moving east. Once clear of the immediate valley, he mounted up and made a large circle to the east, north, then finally south again to give the Hraedari camp a wide berth.
He was troubled as he rode under the hot morning sun, unsettled by his encounter with the unearthly warrior and from that experience, now more worried about Teya. Perhaps it had not been wise to try to fool these preternatural beings and he had the ominous feeling that they might have just announced their whereabouts to Cidrl with this ploy.
Chapter 39
Near the top of a rise, Anthen slowly scanned the endless Misean Desert to the west with his glass. A broad valley and two ridges separated him from the Hraedari camp to the east but it still felt too close for comfort. It didn't help his mood any that it was past noon and he should have rendezvoused with Teya by now. He momentarily pushed his hood back to mark the position of the scorching sun, then resumed his search. The tremendous heat distorted his view, making it hard to discern real movement at a distance.
While scanning the wasteland, he pondered how long he should wait before going after Teya. She had said she would turn back north at mid-morning, which should put her back near his present position by noon. It was now an hour past noon but still too early to become overly concerned. He would wait a bit longer before moving to the next ridge and starting south.
He turned and crept up to the top of the ridge behind him, just a few feet away. He slowly inspected the length of the intervening valley that separated him from the wraiths' camp to the east. He did not want to be surprised if any of the ghostly warriors came looking in this direction for some reason. Thankfully, nothing moved in distance.
The guardsman was making his way back down the slope when he noticed dust rising across the valley to the west. He quickly raised his glass and focused on the rider. He felt a surge of joy as he identified Teya’s slender form but his happiness was short-lived; something must be wrong to cause her to ride fast enough to raise a cloud of dust. He hurried atop Rorc and headed toward his approaching comrade, urging the big bay to a dust-rising gallop of his own. Though both riders were moving fast, it still took several minutes to cross the broad valley. Once finally within shouting distance, he hailed her and reigned in the stallion.
"Are you hurt?" she called back to him, her voice edged with concern.
"No. I am unscathed. Is there danger?"
Teya jumped from her saddle and Anthen followed suit. She ran up to him and hugged him fiercely.
"Are you hurt?" he whispered, stroking her hair.
"No," she murmured. "I just had a feeling that you were in danger plus I knew I was overdue."
She buried her face against his chest and did not move for a few moments. Then, her eyes downcast with embarrassment, she stepped away from him.
"I am sorry. I must seem foolish as a maiden. It's just that I did not feel right about this ... And I saw more of the Hraedari."
"Do not apologize. I did have trouble and was fortunate to dispatch the wraith. I too have a feeling that we may have made a mistake. Now what is this about running into more of these ghostly devils?"
"There are bands of them," she explained quickly. "I nearly blundered into a camp when riding south and spied another mounted party as I made my way back north. It is why I am late. We must move with great caution."
"How far back were the riders you spotted?" Anthen scanned the ridge where he had first spotted Teya's dust.
"An hour and headed toward the southwest. They should not trouble us."
The pair mounted up and followed Teya's tracks to the west to the next ridge. From the high ground they studied the area, then continued on once they were satisfied they were alone. As they rode, Anthen told her what had transpired after she left the camp before dawn, including his battle against the strange creature. She shivered at his description of the apparition, adding that she had also gotten a good look at one when she nearly walked into their camp and that, more than anything else, gave her cause for worry.
The pair traveled west through the rest of the day and continued later than usual, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the wraiths' camp. They selected a campsite surrounded by large rocks to block any light from their small fire. Their fresh food was long gone now and they supped on a stew made by boiling beans and dried beef. The beans were undercooked and the tough beef barely softened but the hungry warriors devoured the meal without complaint.
Teya took the first watch, enjoying the tranquil time after their arduous and, for her anyway, nerve-racking day. She had been uncomfortable with the plan from the start and her apprehension had grown steadily with each passing hour of the morning. She had chastised herself at first for needless worrying when she saw that Anthen was unhurt but the concern returned when Anthen shared his tale. Now a premonition persisted that there would be further consequences to their encounter with the preternatural warriors.
A couple of hours into her watch, she noticed that Anthen was struggling in his sleep more than was normal. She had become accustomed to his fitful slumber but now his torment seemed worse than she had ever witnessed. His face contorted with pain and rage and his muscles flexed as though he were lifting a massive weight. She was about to wake him when he screamed and shot up from his bedroll, scooping up his bow at the same time.
"A dream," she called out quickly, trying to rescue him from the terrible vision he must be having. "It is but a nightmare."
"No! No!" Anthen spun around, searching for the enemy she knew he believed to be there. His eyes were wild and his firelit face shined with sweat.
"All is well Anthen," Teya said soothingly. "We ar
e camped in the desert, far from the Hraedari."
"No. No," the guardsman moaned as he sank to his knees and openly wept into his hands. "You do not understand."
"Your sleep is tormented most nights, no doubt remnants from Cidrl's terrible spell. Rest easy now." Teya dabbed his face with a cloth.
"No," Anthen said and pushed her hand away. "Listen to me. This is no nightmare!"
Teya tensed, seeing that the warrior was now fully coherent. "What do you mean?"
The shaken guardsman paused to collect himself before answering. "I have been shown a vision. A vision of an event that I believe to be real. For what purpose and by whom I do not know." He gazed into the dark desert night, his voice thick with pain and sadness. "We are alone. Garrick is ... Garrick is dead."
"What? Anthen how can you know this?"
"I do not know but it is as real to me as the moon above," he answered in a barely audible tone, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Anthen listen to me. You had visions when you were under the spell. How is this different?"
"I was a part of those dreams. To this nightmare I just bore witness." His eyes were vacant with shock. "I could do nothing to stop it."
"What did you see?"
The guardsman shook his head, not wanting to relive the horror, then forced himself to continue. "Garrick was riding south through the border plains to save time. Without me present, he could have no sign that it was following."
"The winged beast?" Teya interrupted in alarm.
Anthen nodded and continued, his eyes seeing the terrible vision all over again. "It knew the hammer presented the only danger and it snatched that on its first pass. He looked frantically about for cover but there was not a tree within a mile. He dismounted and stood, waiting to face the demon with only a short broadsword. He pushed Lance away but on its next pass, the beast went for the horse anyway, I think, just to add to the guardsman's pain."
He paused, seeming to ponder something. "I think that was the worst part for Garrick ... to watch and hear his horse butchered. The anguish on his face ... Garrick did not lose heart though. He fell to his knees and started to dig like a madman. My guess is that he thought maybe a pit would serve as cover. Perhaps if he had just a little more time ..."
He paused again, fighting the tears. When he continued, his voice shook with emotion. "The ground of the plains is soft but the demon came too quickly. The hole was too shallow and he knew it so he climbed out and readied the sword." Anthen raised his fist, as though with his encouragement, the outcome might be different this time. "As the devil bore down on him, Garrick roared and charged. The collision knocked him backwards but the beast felt the blow as well, shrieking in surprise and anger. It was a gallant try."
He covered his eyes, not wanting to see the rest. Several moments passed before he could continue, his voice barely above a whisper. "The creature tore him asunder, limb by limb. His last words were to me, as though he knew I bore witness." He raised his tear-filled eyes to Teya. "He wailed for me to avenge his death and not to lose heart. Then the beast from hell finished him, keeping the head as a prize for its master." The tormented guardsman shook his head, trying to shake the image, then buried his face in his hands once again.
"Anthen," she pleaded. "You cannot know this to be real! If Cidrl has the capability to steal your body, then sending you a contrived vision is likely within his power."
After a few moments he stood and faced her, composed once again. "Teya I know this may be fantasy but every sense tells me that it is real. I cannot ignore that."
"There is nothing to be done Anthen. We can only hope and pray that the vision is untrue!"
"There is something to be done," he countered, forcing the vision from his mind. "We must rethink our plan, considering that aid might not come from the realm."
"With the Hraedari mobilized that may be the case anyway. What does this change?"
"How far is to Arnedon, once we turn north and enter the wild region?" the guardsman asked, ignoring her question.
"Three days, perhaps four."
"Plus the journey to the mountain?"
"A week or more total. Why?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"We cannot count on help from the south."
"We cannot spare an added week." Teya retorted angrily, then she saw in his eyes what he was about to propose. "No. No Anthen. We must stay together!"
Anthen just looked at her, saying nothing. He knew that she would eventually assess their situation as he had but she was just being stubborn. Their best chance now for succor lay in Arnedon, plus someone must warn her homeland as soon as possible. She just needed time to come to terms with the idea of splitting up. He could see her mind working furiously to come up with arguments.
"We are a good team. We might stand against them, together." Teya argued.
He shook his head. "Not against so many guardsmen, not to mention the Dolonarian elite they have as escorts. The best we could hope for is to slow them down and that is only useful if relief is on the way. I can slow their progress alone."
"You go for help and I will slow their progress!" she countered defiantly.
He did not bother to answer her. She already knew he would have to travel much farther, even if he left now, to ride into Isaencarl far enough to mobilize reinforcements. The northwest provinces of the realm were sparsely populated and unprotected while, he knew from the academy, a sizable Arnedonian fortress lay near the country's southwest border.
Teya angrily returned the guardsman's steady gaze for a time, then her face fell as somber resignation replaced the ire there. She nodded sadly and sagged against him. Without speaking further, they laid down together on Anthen's bedroll. They spent the rest of the clear night huddled together. She slept, nestled against his chest, while he kept his watch and tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid reliving his vision of Garrick's violent death.
Anthen roused her before dawn and the pair started off once more. Faced with Garrick's death and the knowledge that they would soon part, the mood was subdued as they broke camp. She seemed half awake and said little, which was unusual for the buoyant Arnedonian.
At each ridge they surveyed the desert ahead for trouble. Only once during the day did they see anything and veered to the north to avoid the oncoming riders, presumably more wraiths. Near dusk they again searched for and found a sheltered spot for their small fire and passed an uneventful night. The following day there was no sign of the ghostly warriors as they pushed further west under the cloudless sky. They remained cautious, however, and that night the now experienced desert travelers went without a fire, improvising a camp from an abandoned wolf den.
The next day, with two full days' travel since the Hraedari camp, the warriors turned to the northwest, looking for the sea. Unsure of their exact position, they wanted to make sure they did not continue west any longer than necessary. Without knowing the location of Cidrl's party, they lived with the constant fear that they would be too late.
Within a few hours after starting, the pair came within view of the large body of water. It was covered in mist at first, resembling a soft, inviting blanket. The fog soon dispersed, however, and they could see the blackened, dead shoreline. The pleasant interpretation was quickly forgotten and they immediately adjusted their course so they ventured no closer to that ugliness.
They rode parallel to the shoreline for the rest of the day and made camp in a small box canyon. Anthen killed a sizable snake and, with supplies dwindling, they skinned and roasted it for supper. Its taste was not unpleasant and both warriors admitted it better than another night of jerky. The ensuing day, near noon, the coast began to curve to the northwest and the dust-covered riders followed suit. By late afternoon they had passed the western shore of the sea and happily left the shoreline behind. Eager to depart the wasteland before dark, the pair stepped up their pace.
The sun had dropped past the distant mountains to the west when Anthen and Teya reached the hills that marked the end of
the Misean Desert. Green scrub pines dotted the first hillside and patches of forest appeared as the land rose. Even in the failing light, the green seemed bright after the colorless desert. It was soon fully dark and, eager for fresh water, they pressed on, using the nearly full moon to navigate. In a matter of minutes they heard the sound of rushing water and the weary riders followed the sound to its source. Following the brook upstream a short distance, they came upon a pool below a small waterfall.
After making sure the stream was fit, Teya immediately shed her sand-filled clothes and entered the water. She gasped at the coldness; the land rose steadily from the desert to the mountains farther to the northwest and the icy water felt as though it had just melted from the snow-covered peaks.
As Anthen watched from the shore, she climbed up the rocks and bathed in the waterfall. The sight of her wet body shimmering in the moonlight was an image he would not soon forget. He wanted to join her but that would not be wise in this dangerous land. It was too risky for them both to be so exposed and far from their weapons. Instead, he kept watch and fished for their supper. A short time later, Teya clambered up the shore with a sizable fish clutched in one hand. With the large fish struggling in her steady grasp, the sight of the strong, lithe feminine form seemed in complete harmony with the surrounding wilderness and he guessed she might easily be mistaken for an elven goddess or wood nymph.
The guardsman caught another couple of fish from the pool and those, along with Teya's, provided a tasty supper. He had his turn in the icy water while the fish cooked so both warriors enjoyed being free of sand and dust for the first time since Portal. With wood plentiful once again they could afford a decent fire and they sipped coffee by the pleasant blaze after the meal. They spoke little and only of trivial matters, both knowing they would part in the morning and possibly never see each other again.