An angelic resonance rang through the air. Not only did Pendr hear it, a section of his mind, where he had felt the cool trickle before, felt it.
“What the …?” the deep voice said outside the tent. Pendr guessed it belonged to Wanse.
Another ring of the sweet sound emanated, followed by another, then another.
“This makes no sense!” Wanse yelled.
“What?” Lispy said.
“It’s shielded somehow.” The surprise in Wanse’s voice was unmistakable. “Gravatt, try it yourself.”
Gravatt must be the name of the man with the lisp. Pendr noticed that Halima had neither moved nor changed expression. When more blows were deflected, accompanied with the awe-inspiring sound which followed, Pendr thought he saw the older woman twitch, just perceptibly.
“You’re right. It is shielded,” Gravatt said. “Get Somner up here.”
The command was echoed by a male voice, some distance from the tent. Gravatt swore, then said, “You may feel safe in there, but you aren’t the only one who can wield the myelur. Somner, get the shielding down!”
The women in the shelter tensed up noticeably. Pendr searched out Danla among the others and spotted her looking in his direction. She’s afraid. They weren’t expecting this.
“He’s … he’s fighting me,” Halima said. Her breathing started to become labored.
Pendr looked around the room, trying to spot anything he could use as a weapon. All he could see were the bodies packed inside the tent. Thinking back, he did not remember seeing any weaponry when he had first visited Halima.
“Can she hold it?” Eladrel asked.
“She’s trying,” Yarma answered.
“Are any of you able to help?” Eladrel asked.
Each of the women shook their heads. “We’re training as healers,” Yarma said. “None of us have the gift of the blue myelur.”
“How long can you keep the shield up?” Eladrel directed this question directly to Halima.
She kept her eyes closed, though her eyebrows knitted in deeper concentration. “He is attacking … random spots … trying to create a small opening. It … it is getting harder to mend the spots he has weakened. It won’t be … much longer.”
Her words struck something inside Pendr. In recent days, he had seen too many people die—people he should be protecting. He had escaped each time, and still, he had been hunted. They won’t stop. They intend to kill us. We did nothing to them. I will not let this happen!
With that singular thought, one of unwavering determination, Pendr felt a cool sensation wash over him, just as when he had run back to the battlefield to rescue Rilam. At the same time, he felt his inner energy begin to wane. I must act now!
Pendr pushed open the tent flap and stepped out into the light. On the ground, only a few steps away lay Rilam’s corpse. The soil around his head was stained deep red. Three men stood around the tent. Two wore solid leather armor; crescent moons emblazoned on their chests. Both held spears in one hand and swords in the other. The other man wore a blue robe, shimmering in the daylight.
“There’s one!” the man directly in front of Pendr said, his voice slurring on the “s” sound.
That’s Gravatt. He’s the one giving the orders. Pendr would put a stop to that.
A victorious grin spread over Gravatt’s face. “Aren’t you a big one? And not even armed. You must be one of those who we captured before. I can’t wait—”
Pendr refused to let him finish. He charged Gravatt, lowering a shoulder. Startled, the leader of the enemy group was still able to bring his spear up in time. Instead of the sharpened point skewering Pendr through his chest, the weapon struck solidly and skidded off to one side.
Though Pendr felt no pain from the blow, he had felt a slight pressure at the point of impact. Confusion filled Gravatt’s eyes and then understanding as Pendr barreled into him. The force of Pendr hitting the man was enough for him to fall to the ground, and in the process, it caused him to drop his sword and spear.
Kneeling quickly, Pendr grabbed the spear while Gravatt remained dazed. Pendr had sensed movement behind him before he heard it. Wanse is coming.
Spinning while still on his knees, Pendr tucked the spear under his right armpit and faced his oncoming foe. Wanse’s spear struck Pendr first, but as before, it deflected off to the side. The man’s momentum, however, kept him moving forward and directly into Pendr’s spear. A grunt of surprise was the only sound Wanse made when the spear pierced him just below the ribcage and exited out his back. He tipped to one side, breaking the shaft of the spear in the process.
Gravatt was getting to his feet, clutching his sword in his right hand. Without considering a plan, Pendr acted. Still close to the ground, he pulled the sword from Wanse’s grip as the newly dead man fell. Remaining low, Pendr swung his newly acquired weapon in an arc. Gravatt was still in the process of standing when Pendr’s sword connected with his shin. So powerful was Pendr’s strike that Gravatt’s leg separated into two parts, his booted foot twisting at an odd angle now that it was no longer holding up Gravatt’s weight.
Again, Pendr sensed movement just out of his field of view. Turning his head, he saw the man in the robe, Somner, running for the trees. It would not be possible for Pendr to catch him in time. If he gets away, we remain at risk. He can bring down Halima’s ward around the tent. There was nothing Pendr could do. Throwing his sword would only mean losing a valuable weapon, and chances were slim he would do any real harm to Somner.
Frustration boiled inside Pendr, and with it, a knot of energy formed. It continued to build inside his chest, and unsure how or even why he would do such an action, Pendr stretched forward a hand toward the fleeing enemy. He released the energy knot. Pendr’s physical eyes saw no evidence of the knot leaving his body through his hand, but he sensed it fly across the distance between him and Somner.
The man in the shimmering robe flung forward as if hit by a powerful wind, only much stronger. The force slammed him against a tree, and from the angle of his neck when he came to rest on the ground, was dead.
“You … you,” Gravatt said. He was on the ground, clutching his severed leg.
Pendr spun and faced his enemy. “I, what?” Pendr asked.
“It’s not possible for you to—”
Aware there were more dangers in the forest, Pendr silenced the injured man by bringing his sword down, removing Gravatt’s head from his body.
Chapter 27
It took the better part of the afternoon for Wyjec to weave the amber glow around the hearts of the remaining four wolves. Wyjec had moved the pack deeper into the western wood, away from the corpses of the two wolves killed during the encounter. During the process of tying the loose strands of the glow, he found it interesting how each of the beasts was unique, even though the three smaller red wolves were similar in appearance.
The smallest of the group, which would normally be considered the runt of the pack, had a heart slightly larger than the other wolves of the same size. Wyjec decided to name him Pluck. The other two of the smaller red wolves were nearly opposite when contrasting them. One kept flitting about as if he had bundled up energy which made it unable for him to remain still. This one would go by the name of Jittery whereas his companion was almost serene in nature. Tranquil—that is what he will be called.
The largest red wolf, the former leader of the red pack who had since relinquished authority to Alpha, was powerfully built. His heart was the strongest, by a good margin, than the rest of the red wolves. He was older than even Alpha, Wyjec understood somehow, though he was not sure how he knew. He’s strong, yes, but he’s also wise enough to realize that Alpha is more dominate. Acumen—yes that word fits well as a name for the large red.
By the time Wyjec finished securing the amber glow around the wolves’ hearts, he could no longer ignore hunger and thirst. Water was easy. The bubbling and gurgling of a nearby brook acted as a beacon, of sorts. Wyjec readily answered the call, and soon he and
the wolves were drinking their fill.
The water flowed west to east, and as Wyjec studied the terrain, he understood why. In general, the further west they traveled, the higher in elevation they climbed. The Masters had spoken little of the land around the palace, but from what Wyjec could remember there was a vast land of water, an ocean it was called, to the east. The west contained mountains, whatever they were. These mountains were land formations—that much Wyjec could guess—but what kind? Are these mountains something I should fear? Perhaps they could offer shelter.
With a belly full of water, Wyjec felt strong enough to continue deeper into the western wood. He and the wolves stayed close to the brook. The running water appeared to be a popular spot as Wyjec noticed small trails running nearby.
Not far into the trip, Acumen stopped and sniffed at some animal tracks left in the soft earth. They were smaller than what wolves made, by at least half. From what Wyjec could tell, Acumen was not alarmed by the tracks—though he did act in an enthusiastic manner. The large red wolf whistle/growled at Alpha as if asking a question. Alpha, in response, looked up at Wyjec, his eyes conveying—what? Permission? But to do what?
Using the red myelur to examine each of the wolves, Wyjec sensed no intention of aggressiveness toward him. Focusing his attention back on Alpha, Wyjec nodded his head, as well as trying to send a sense of authorization through the red myelur. Whether it was the head nod or the transmitted approval, Alpha reacted.
The leader of the pack whistle/growled to the other wolves, and two heartbeats later, they all ran off in different directions. What is this? What have I let them do?
Wyjec searched out with his senses, trying to find any of the wolves, but they had disappeared into the thick forest foliage. The sun now angled in from the west. It was not Wyjec’s imagination that with each passing moment the light dimmed. Instinctively, Wyjec called on the blue myelur, covering his body in a protective coat. Without the wolves by his side, he was subject to attack.
Hunger once again began to gnaw at him. There were plants around, and some roots which Wyjec could dig up, though he had no idea which would help and which would harm. Small fish flitted in the stream time and again, but they were too quick for Wyjec to snag either with his hands or the red myelur.
Insects and other creeping things were found under rocks and by tree roots, but Wyjec found he could not bring himself to put them in his mouth. He was hungry, yes, but not so much as to stoop to eating bugs.
Thoughts of the meals prepared for him by the chardi, and those later served by the captains, taunted him. When Wyjec was a chardi, the Masters withheld water and food, and once he was free from their control, he vowed never to take water or food for granted. How quickly I fall into compliance.
A sense of self-pity, as well as frustration, joined hunger as Wyjec’s dominant sensations. Time passed, the day turned into twilight, and with each heartbeat, his resolve not to eat bugs wavered. I need food—at least some form of nutrition—or I will not be able to retain the shield from the blue myelur.
Wyjec sat next to the brook, cross-legged, and reached for a moss covered rock. Upon lifting it, he saw various types of squirming creatures. It was dark enough now that Wyjec could not make out many details of the bugs. It’s probably for the best.
Before he could pick the least disgusting of the bugs, leaves crunching and small branches snapping to Wyjec’s left caught his attention. He dropped the rock and stood, double checking his shielding was intact.
Alpha emerged from the woods, holding something in his mouth. It took a moment for Wyjec to realize it was a rabbit, fairly plump, and quite dead. Alpha lay the hare at Wyjec’s feet. Where Alpha had bitten into the rabbit, its fur was torn, revealing the red meat beneath.
I have no way to start a fire, but … does it matter? Unsure why, the thought of eating raw rabbit was infinitely less repulsive than eating bugs. Hunger overrode any other sense of concern as Wyjec fell to his knees and tore into the rabbit.
While he feasted, Wyjec became aware that each of the other wolves returned. Recently dried blood on their jowls indicated they, too, had found an answer to their hunger. Upon eating his fill, Wyjec offered the rest of the rabbit back to Alpha. The wolf’s golden eyes once again transmitted a message: approval.
Chapter 28
Pendr ached—a bone-deep type of weariness that even the longest days of working at the blacksmith shop could not create. Halima said that would happen because Pendr used a large amount of the blue myelur when defeating Gravatt, Wanse and Somner. After the initial battle, the rest of the men led by Gravatt, who had been standing a good distance away, fled into the woods. Halima sensed no danger, so for the moment, they were supposedly safe.
Danla had relit the fire, and then Halima instructed her, Pendr, and Eladrel to rest beside the flames. The sun was close to setting, and the campfire offered more light than any other source. Eladrel’s shoulders stooped, and his head hung low.
“I could have saved Rilam,” Eladrel said. “I wanted to. Wait, it’s more than that. It was as if I needed to. It was hard standing back and doing nothing.”
“No one is blaming you,” Danla assured. She had been assigned to stay with Pendr and Eladrel while the other young women worked on different tasks—including burying the dead. Pendr felt it was wrong, for whatever reason, for women to do such hard labor. Yet, the more he learned about Halima and her group, the more his biases changed. They are strong. Stronger in more ways than I could have imagined.
Eladrel, indeed, had tried to revive Rilam, though Halima told him it would be of no use. His insistence to at least make an attempt impressed Pendr, and from what he could tell, Halima as well. The effort nearly caused Eladrel to pass out, which is when Halima stepped in.
“Remember the words of my teacher,” Danla said. “Using the green myelur draws from your strength and health to heal others. You’ve not been taught how to build up a reserve, so trying to heal too much too soon can kill you.”
Eladrel looked up at Danla. “A reserve? I don’t understand. Is this what Mistress Halima has been teaching you?”
“Yes, as well as other things which you will need to learn to become a healer.”
The young man’s reply was not to respond at all, at least not verbally. His eyebrows knitted, and a troubled look indicated to Pendr that Eladrel considered where his future might take him.
If Danla had the notion that Eladrel would receive training, what did that mean for Pendr? Twice now he had used the blue myelur to save others. If he learned to hone the skill, he could become a formidable warrior. But that’s not me. I’m a blacksmith, not a killer. However, he had killed people. Reflecting back on the attack, Pendr realized that when in the heart of a battle, he did not hesitate to do what he previously thought was unthinkable. I killed three men today.
“What of Pendr?” Eladrel said, bringing Pendr out of his thoughts. “Will Halima teach him as well?”
A voice from the darkness spoke before Danla could. “I will train neither of you.” It was Halima.
She stepped closer to the fire, the red and orange flames illuminating her face. Her hands were clasped in front of her. Though she wore the same serene expression as normal, Pendr could see the weariness in her face and shoulders. She slouched, barely perceptively, and her eyes pinched in the corners.
“But Danla said that—” Eladrel began.
“Danla said you needed to be trained. And of that, she was correct.” Halima sat next to Danla and touched her lightly on the knee. “Danla has displayed great potential in the use of the green myelur. She will play an important part in the battles ahead. As I suspect, will both of you.”
The thought of more battles made Pendr feel even wearier—something he did not think possible. Once the remaining enemy soldiers had run away, and Halima assured everyone they were safe for now, she also claimed help would arrive shortly. How she knew, exactly, was something Pendr still struggled to comprehend.
Halima lea
ned a bit closer to the fire. “I won’t train you because I am unable to do so. Men and women are different, especially when it comes to using the myelur—any form of it. Only those of the same gender can truly provide the correct training.”
“I don’t understand,” Eladrel said.
Danla spoke. “May I explain, Mistress?”
Halima nodded.
“A woman cannot create a child without a man. Neither can a man create a child on his own,” Danla said. “While men and women are similar in many ways, there are inherent differences. The way the myelur flows through a woman is just different enough that a man cannot fully comprehend it. The same is true for women understanding a man’s use of the myelur. Yes, the end results of the power can be the same, or very closely the same, but the methods are different.”
“Different, how, exactly?” Eladrel asked. “I still don’t understand.”
Danla’s lips curved upwards. “That’s a question, as I understand it from my lessons with Mistress Halima, which has been debated and studied for generations.”
“In simple terms,” Halima said, “it’s not unlike trying to get someone who primarily uses their right hand to do the same activities with their left. They are both hands, yet different.”
Pendr imagined doing some of the work at the smithy using his left hand. He could try, though he did not have the same control or strength. While it still did not help him begin to understand the complexities of the myelur, he could accept the differences about which Danla and Halima spoke.
“You mentioned upcoming battles,” Pendr said. “I’m afraid I know little of what has happened since we were first attacked.”
The edges of Halima’s eyes tightened a bit more. “I know we’re still at war,” she said. “The forces from Sothcar have taken Iredell and continue to hold it.”
“That much we knew,” Eladrel said. “It’s the reason why we were conscripted.”
Darker the Shadow (The Howler King Trilogy Book 1) Page 11