“Don’t worry about it, kid,” said Xander. “It’s not the size that matters.”
"What's yours?" asked Damnar, beckoning towards Xander. Belkore began to laugh.
"Yeah, Xan – why don't you show the kid yours?" chuckled Belkore.
"Maybe some other time," said Xander.
"Speaking of dumb choices..." Belkore whispered to himself, loud enough that everyone heard, though Xander pretended not to. The twins looked disappointed, but they didn't press the prince to show them his tre'ance. The four companions sat in awkward silence for several minutes before Damnar broke the air.
"So, are you going to tell us what we are hunting?"
"Yes, I suppose that would be helpful, wouldn't it?" said Xander. "We are tracking two Reytana and their Reysene friend. They escaped Reysa earlier this afternoon and were last seen heading towards the forest. As fate would have it, they are all about your age, so maybe you can lend some insight into what two eighteen-year-old Tormada twins are thinking."
The twins glanced at each other. Xander tried to decipher the looks on their faces, but they were unreadable.
"Well?" asked Xander. "Any ideas?"
"If they were me," started Damnar, uncertainly.
"They'd what?" demanded Belkore, leaning forward in his seat.
"They'd be..." Damnar stammered nervously, looking at his sister for assistance.
"Spit it out!" shouted Belkore.
"They'd be hungry!" said Damnar and Damina together. Belkore shook his head in disgust and leaned back in his seat. Xander chuckled. He opened up a compartment next to his chair and threw a couple of wrapped sandwiches to the twins. Their eyes lit up appreciatively and they tore into the sandwiches while the hyper-rail car sped through the night.
The hum of the magnets beneath Septa’s hyper-rail car began to decelerate as it slid to a gradual stop at the weight station. She had been traveling at maximum velocity ever since she left Gartol and the sides of her vessel were almost too hot to touch as she stepped out onto the dusty platform. In the dust were two distinct sets of footprints – one leading away from the platform, and one returning. She noticed there were more footprints in the tracks that returned to the platform. You went and got help. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought. Still, going all the way back to Reysa to start your search is a mistake. You will follow from behind while I will cut the fugitives off from the front!
Septa looked out over the horizon. To her left she could faintly make out the tree line of Dellwood Forest. To her right was the coast of the Delucean Sea. And spread right before her was the vast Battle Plains. She turned to her left and set out at a determined trot. I will show them, she thought as she ran. This is the last time that they will underestimate me!
It was nearly morning when Xander and his three companions arrived at the Gartolian encampment at the base of Reysa. They stretched their legs and yawned as they exited the hyper-rail car. It was not a long trip, but sixty minutes was a long time for a Tormada to sit in one place.
"I still think that we should have gotten off at the Summit," grumbled Belkore.
"We could not track them from there," answered Damnar. “We have to start where the tracks start, and that’s here.”
"You said that when they left it was raining,” added Damina, “which means the ground was soft. They will have left an obvious trail."
"Chances are they went towards the river as it is their only source of fresh water," said Damnar. "If we follow the river, Damina and I should be able to find their tracks.”
"And what happens when we find them?" asked Belkore, looking at Xander.
"We capture them. Alive. Do you understand me?" Xander's face was all seriousness. His companions nodded, though they didn't seem pleased with the order.
"Whereas the Battle Plains has been a veritable ‘no man's land’ over the years, Dellwood forest has served as a zone of neutrality where both the Reysene and Gartolians could interact without fear of attack. There is a reason for this – the waifs. The woodsmen serve as a buffer between the two races, and they have learned how to profit mightily from this unique position. "
- Chapter Four of The Crescent Wars, by Nicholas Baston
Chapter Ten: Lem
Tinko and the twins spent the night among the branches of a large tree. It had been Loras' idea to climb high into the forest canopy so that they might avoid being detected by any search parties as they slept. It was a good idea, in theory. However, none of the branches were wide enough to allow a person (let alone a fat one like Tinko) to comfortably lie down without fear of rolling over the edge. And so, the companions spent most of their night drifting in and out of sleep as they struggled to keep themselves from falling.
The morning sun was almost ready to peek over the horizon when they heard a noise in the forest. It wasn't a loud noise, but rather a large noise, like a hundred small twigs breaking simultaneously. The three teens held tight to their branches and looked in the direction of the sound. Again, the sound of hundreds of branches breaking reverberated through the forest; this time significantly closer. The source of the sound was so close to them that it caused the tree to shake. Tinko lost his grip and began to slide off of the side of his branch. His arms flailed as he struggled to grasp onto anything that would prevent his fall.
"Help!" he screamed. He reached for something – anything – but his fingers closed around empty air. Suddenly, two strong hands grabbed his forearm and held him in mid-air.
"Quiet!" whispered Loras. He adjusted his grip, trying to get a better hold on his heavy friend.
They heard the sound again, this time directly below them. They looked down into the darkness, unable to see the forest floor as it was hidden by a dense black haze. They felt a giant, rumbling exhalation as a puff of warm, moist air rose into the tree. Then, they heard it again. The same crunching sound of hundreds of pieces of wood breaking as something attempted to emerge from the woods below.
The trapped teenagers froze with fear. Tinko could feel Loras' fingernails digging into his arm, breaking the skin, but he was too frightened to cry out in pain. Slowly, a shape emerged from the darkness below. A great shaggy mound rose up to the spot where Tinko was hanging from the tree. The pungent smell of wet fur filled Tinko's nose, nauseating him. He began to dry heave. Suddenly, two giant eyelids opened from the face of the giant, furry mound. The glowing orbs that they revealed were like two moons shining in the darkness. The eyes had no pupils. They were solid white. Even without pupils to indicate the direction of the beast's gaze, Tinko could tell that the eyes were staring directly at him.
For a full minute, nothing happened. Nobody moved. Nothing breathed. The giant eyes did not blink. Tinko tried to will his heart to pump more quietly. It sounded to him like each beat was echoing off the tree branch. Regan sat motionless and attempted to silence her breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Measured, slow and steady.
A large drop of sweat hung on the tip of Tinko's nose. He watched it quiver as it grew in size. Finally, it dropped, falling in slow motion until it splattered on a leaf, breaking the silence. It might as well have been a crack of thunder.
The creature blinked. It let out a large exhalation and a burst of warm air blew through the tree branches. The moon eyes began to slowly survey the rest of the tree's inhabitants. The way its eyelids bent slightly gave an indication of where the eyes were pointing. They inspected Loras, who was splayed out on the branch above the hanging Tinko. Then the eyes moved to the branch where Regan was sitting motionless. Another puff of air. Another blink. But this time the eyes did not re-open. The shaggy mound of hair descended back into the darkness of the forest floor, crunching the few remaining branches that had survived its ascent. The teens listened as the crunching of the creature's footsteps slowly carried him deeper into the forest.
"Pull me up already!" grunted Tinko after he had judged that the coast was clear. Loras gave one hearty yank and his friend belly-flopped next to him on the tree branch. Both boys rolled onto the
ir backs with exhaustion. Tinko began to laugh.
"What was that thing?" asked Regan as she climbed over to her companions.
"You don't know?" said Tinko, continuing to laugh.
"It was a mendkin," said Loras. "Had to be. Nothing else that big lives in the forest."
"Says the expert who has spent a grand total of one night in the forest," replied Regan.
"Ok, genius, then what was it?" said Loras.
“Oh, it was definitely a mendkin," interjected Tinko before Regan could respond. "Did you see how its eyes filled its entire face? And it had no pupils. Definitely a mendkin. Perfectly harmless beasts when they aren't hungry."
"I guess we were lucky it wasn't hungry then," said Regan.
"Maybe it wasn't hungry, but I'm starving," said Loras.
"How can you think of food after what just happened?" asked Regan incredulously.
"I guess saving Tink's life works up an appetite!" said Loras as he began to jump down from the tree. Regan watched him, dumfounded.
"Truth be told, I am a little hungry myself," said Tinko.
"I... I don't even..." started Regan, but then she just shook her head and began to slowly follow her brother down the tree.
Loras had read a book once about hunting and saw no reason why he shouldn’t be able to easily kill some lazy woodland animal. So, he set off into the forest in search of breakfast. He quickly found out that hunting was not as easy as it seemed, and he spent the better part of an hour hurling sticks at annoyed, (but perfectly safe) nimbers and pipkens. Fortunately, Regan spent this time gathering wild mushrooms and berries while Tinko devised a rather ingenious net out of tall grass and used it to catch three fish from the river.
However, since nobody knew how to start a fire, they had to eat the fish raw. It turned out to be a rather unpleasant meal for everyone.
As they were choking down their last bits of raw fish, Tinko noticed something about his companions. "You two must have grown at least two inches overnight," he said. "We're only going to be able to pass you off as very tall tormans for a few more days. After that, there will be no hiding the fact that you are Tormada. You'll stick out like a sore thumb."
"Then that gives us three days to find this Declin person," said Loras.
"And give him Dario's letter," added Regan. "You still have it don't you?"
"Yes," replied Loras.
"You haven't opened it, have you?" asked Regan, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at her brother.
"No. But why shouldn't I? If there's something in there that can help us, wouldn't you want to know what it is?"
"If it was something that could help us, Dario would have told us to read it," answered Regan. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist opening it. Why don't you give it to me so that you're not tempted?"
"It's my letter – Dario gave it to me, not you!" answered Loras. "If he would have wanted you to have it, he would have given it to you."
"I have an idea. Why don't you give it to me," suggested Tinko.
The two Tormada frowned down at their friend. Their new height made Tinko seem a lot shorter than he used to be. "Or... you could just keep it," said Tinko sheepishly.
"Fine, you keep it," said Regan. "Just promise you won't open it. "
"I promise," answered Loras.
"I'm serious," replied Regan.
"I'm serious too."
"Ok, good."
"Fine."
"Soooo," interjected Tinko. He had seen these sibling squabbles go on for many minutes. "We should probably get moving. Woodhaven has to be somewhere along the river, so if we just follow along the bank for long enough then eventually we'll hit it."
"Won't the river be the exact place that the Gartune will be searching for us?" replied Regan.
"Do you know any other way to get to Woodhaven?" replied Loras. Regan didn't reply.
"No? Then I agree with Tinko. We follow the river, but we stay under the cover of the trees. "
"And if we're spotted?" asked Regan.
"I don't know, I'll think of something," replied Loras.
"Nice plan."
"Thanks. I just thought of it."
"All right – here we go!" yelled Tinko as he started off toward the river. It was going to be a long day.
Tinko and the twins followed the river all morning, staying hidden within the tree line. There was a well-worn path near the bank of the river that would have sped up their journey, but they decided to stick to the woods instead. During this time, they saw two tormans walk past them on the path. Judging by their clothes, the travelers were not Reysene or Gartans. They were waifs – woodsmen.
Long ago, when the torman race was choosing sides, those who would not swear complete loyalty to either god were forced to live in the woods. There they had remained for hundreds of years. Though the waifs had not benefitted from many of the advancements of the Reysene or the Gartans, they had also not suffered through eight centuries of war. The woodsmen took no sides and were generally left alone.
Whenever they saw a waif approaching on the path, Tinko, Loras and Regan ducked behind a tree so as not to be spotted. After the second waif had passed, Tinko suggested that perhaps they should ask one of them for the way to Woodhaven. Loras and Regan immediately shot this idea down. The waifs were a wild and covetous race and could not be trusted. During wartime the waifs were notorious for selling information about troop movements to both the Reytana and the Gartune if it meant a handsome reward. Though they remained neutral, the waifs did not hesitate to profit from anything of value that turned up in their woods. And the location of two lost Reytana was definitely a valuable piece of information.
When a third waif was spotted approaching on the path, Tinko and the twins again threw themselves underneath nearby forest bushes. The waif's right foot was bent awkwardly inward and he walked with a noticeable limp. He carried a walking stick to help take pressure off of the gimp foot. After a sufficient amount of time had gone to allow the waif to pass, Loras peeked out from his hiding spot. There, standing directly in the middle of the path was the waif. He was peering in their direction. Immediately, Loras ducked his head back down but the quick movement drew the attention of the waif.
"You der, show yerself!" yelled the waif. Nobody moved.
"I seen you jump back der; there's no use hidin."
"Why don't we just go talk to him?" whispered Tinko. "There's only one of him and three of us. What's he going to do?"
"Quiet!" whispered Regan. "If we stay put maybe he'll go away."
"All right, have it yer way," yelled the waif. Instead of continuing down the path he began to walk towards their location. He swung his walking stick to clear the brush in front of him. The teens crouched in silence as they listened to the approaching waif.
"Do something!" whispered Regan to her brother, but when she turned to look at him, he was gone. The waif was nearly upon them. Tinko looked over from his hiding spot and noticed that Regan was alone. The waif was now less than ten feet in front of her location. Tinko mustered every bit of courage he had in him, and with a rabid yell, came crashing clumsily out of his hiding place. The waif turned to face the oncoming boy. He watched with a half-bewildered, half-amused look as the clumsy youth came crashing towards him with clenched fists swinging from his sides. Once the waif had turned to face Tinko, Loras came out from his new hiding place. As Tinko approached from the front, Loras approached from the back, but with much less noise. When Tinko was only a few feet from the waif, he tripped and tumbled to the ground. At this same moment, Loras lowered his head and closed the remaining distance between him and his target. Suddenly, without turning around, the waif thrust his walking stick behind him. The tip of the stick caught Loras right between the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. With Loras disabled, the waif then turned and smacked the heaving boy over the back of the head with his stick. Loras crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The waif turned back to meet Tinko who was now frozen with terror. The boy's hear
t would not let him retreat but his mind would not let him advance. Clearly, he was no match for the woodsman. Tinko's only chance was to use his size and rush directly at the man. After a second of internal debate, Tinko's heart won out, and he jumped up and ran at the waif.
Like a matador avoiding a charging bull, the waif deftly side-stepped the charging Tinko and struck him on the backside as he passed. This caused Tinko to fall forward where he landed directly on top of the unconscious Loras. Huffing and puffing, Tinko gathered himself as quickly as he could and turned to begin another charge at the waif.
"Easy der, big fella," said the waif. "Yer not gonna win dis one unless you got more floaters hidin in da woods."
As the waif spoke, Regan arose from her hiding place. The waif immediately turned to meet her. Regan walked calmly toward her brother with her hands held above her head in surrender. The waif looked at her but did not attack. When she had reached Loras, she knelt down by his side, all the while keeping her hands held above her and her eyes fixed on the waif.
"He'll be ok, just got his bell rung a bit," said the waif. "Are there any more of yas out there?"
"No," said Regan. "Please, we don't want any trouble."
"I think dis one might've wanted a bit o' trouble," said the waif as he poked Loras with his walking stick. Loras let out a low groan as his eyes flickered and he rolled over toward his sister.
"See, told yas he'd be ok. "
Loras sat up on his elbow and rubbed the back of his head. Regan moved his hand so that she could inspect his wound. A large lump was already beginning to form.
"Nice plan," she said to her brother. Loras moaned.
"What are two floaters doin' out 'ere in da woods?" asked the waif.
Loras and Regan looked at each other. They couldn’t tell if the waif had known they were Reytana from a distance, but now that he stood in front of them, there was no hiding their true identities. Their eyes gave it away.
"We're trying to get to Woodhaven," answered Tinko. Loras and Regan gave him the same glaring look.
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