Fireclaws - Search for the Golden

by T. Michael Ford

  The place was a stirred up anthill alright! Guards were converging on the sounds of battle from all over the castle. The only good I could see from all this was that the loud clash of swords drew footmen into the fray and not archers. I strained to see what was happening with Ryliss, but there were intervening rooftops blocking my view. The sounds of steel on steel convinced me that she fought on. By now, we were forty or fifty feet in the air, well above the outer curtain wall and the wall sentries were taking notice. From our vantage point, we had a bird’s eye view of most of what was going on below us, but I still couldn’t see Ryliss.

  “Looks like the sentries are sending for more crossbows,” Marson said shakily, and the two water wizards just moaned in dread fear.

  Looking down, I was still concentrating on the sounds of battle, but suddenly the swordplay went silent, and an angry roar rose up from the guardsmen below. That’s when I spotted Ryliss sprinting across the rooftops, a boiling, frenzied, sword-waving crowd of warriors chasing behind her at ground level.

  Normally this would be almost comical given that the rough, tough bravos were chasing what appeared to be an elderly woman who was making them all look silly by running them around in circles. A few of them attempted to climb on the shoulders of their comrades and hack at her feet as she passed, but she skipped over them like a child in a daisy field and continued her dangerous dance. Finally, I saw her stop, drop elegantly into a formal bow, arms extended like a stage performer, and contemptuously toss her sword sideways into the crowd. Then she raced ahead, dropping out of sight behind a building at the back of the compound, pursuers swarming after her like ants from a stirred up nest.

  The grin on my face was wiped away rudely as I felt a harsh tug at my arm. I looked down to see my sleeve had just been shredded by a crossbow bolt that had ripped its way past and continued off into the night air. Damn that was close!

  Two more bolts whistled past our heads. We were probably a hundred feet or more up in the air now, dangling like a ripe piece of fruit above the fray. We would be well within deadly crossbow range even once we reached the spell’s maximum altitude. Below us, several dozen grinning crossbowmen had assembled in the courtyard and were preparing to use us for target practice.

  “Kerrik, it has been an honor knowing you,” Marson rasped. Marjoree started to weep softly with the other farmer, who I now assumed to be her husband, trying to comfort her.

  The sounds of cocking weapons of war were interrupted by an inhuman screech that ripped through the air. I spotted several wall sentries, who were the closest foes to us, point and stare in disbelief. I couldn’t see what they were so animated about, as I was facing away and had no way to swivel my point of view. Suddenly, I was buffeted by blasts of air and felt the belt cinched under my arms jerk sharply and tighten. Below us, the ground seemed to blur and we were moving in great haste. All of the crossbowmen in the courtyard who had been taking their time readying our execution, now started loading frantically. In seconds, we were swept out over the main curtain wall, blocking all shots from the courtyard. The wall guards, however, slapped their weapons onto the battlements and took careful aim.

  I felt a sudden searing pain in my thigh, which told me that one of the heavy bolts had found its mark; luckily a flight of half a dozen more narrowly missed the four of us. The pain was excruciating, and I struggled to maintain the concentration I needed to keep us aloft. A hurried glance down told me we were moving very fast now, at least as fast as the fly spell would have moved me alone. Clenching my jaw, with the leather belt still painfully taut against my chest, I looked up and saw huge eagle feathers rhythmically sweeping the starry sky above me. Neata, our brightest moon, was rising in her full glory and it allowed me to pick up on the blue and while coloring above me.

  “A Fenorian eagle?” I said in wonder, even as my identifying vision began to dance and swim a little. The pain in my thigh seemed to be lessening, but I felt strange.

  Marjoree shifted her grip on me. She had been concentrating on the ground far below us for several minutes, and now announced, “We’re out over the forest now, I doubt they’ll follow us in the dark, but tomorrow you can be sure they will be on our trail. If we can get to our farm, we can get clothes and provisions and flee from this awful place, but…”

  “I know,” I grimaced, “we’re just passengers right now. Where is your farm?”

  She held out an arm and pointed. “See that river? If we follow it for three miles or so, it will take us right to it…I don’t suppose the eagle…” As if by command, our course changed and in a matter of moments, we were cruising high above the river.

  Sweat was running profusely down my forehead and nausea was a real possibility, but it wasn’t from the joyride or the exertion of maintaining the spell. “The observation spell is starting to weaken!” Marson shouted warily, and I could perceptively feel the slow eroding loss of altitude. We were coming down, and as if in reaction to our words, the large bird beat its wings faster, giving us a small amount of lift and greater speed for a short while.

  “There it is,” Marjoree whispered excitedly. “I never thought to see it again!” We were sinking a lot faster now, and my vision was starting to tunnel. At thirty feet above the trees, we finally cleared the last of the forest and swooped ever closer down toward level farmland. I distantly felt the belt harness go slack, and our forward momentum slowed to next to nothing. We just hung there slowly descending to earth like a downy feather.

  Oddly, I just felt numb as my feet hit the ground, and it really didn’t register that my legs crumpled under me as I slid limply to the earth. My eyes closed and my heart hammered ineffectively in my chest. I think I blanked out for few seconds, but I eventually roused enough to hear the discussion going on around me as if from a distance above.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood,” Marjoree whispered fearfully, apparently examining me in detail. “He’ll die if we don’t get that quarrel out of his leg, but I’m pretty sure he’ll bleed out even faster if we pull it out. Looks like it nicked a big artery.”

  “Well, we can’t take him with us in this condition, that’s for sure,” the other water wizard huffed as if daring the others to disagree with him. “He’s unconscious, best to just let him drift off and never wake up…that’s the kindest way to go.”

  Huh! I struggled to move, but an extreme debilitating weariness settled over my body, and I knew I was done for.

  “It’s a damn shame, that’s what it is,” Marson added sadly. “He survived years of war, and then to die like this with a brigand’s arrow in his leg…well it doesn’t seem fair! But you’re right; it might be a kindness to just let him go.”

  The three of them whispered some heartfelt thanks for my part in rescuing them, and then they were gone. I considered it for a few seconds and couldn’t even muster up any anger at them. I had faced similar instances with comrades’ deaths on the battlefield, with the same detached impassionate logic. It was just another survival mechanism that soldiers employed, plain and simple.

  I was cold and exhausted. I was actually looking forward to drifting off to sleep when my ears detected rapid light steps approaching and a short cry of dismay, as someone knelt by my side and placed cool fingertips on my throat. So tired…I heard a voice, a low melodious voice begging me to hold onto…something? She sounded nice and I wanted to please her by doing what she asked, but sleep was becoming too insistent. Just before I dozed off, I felt bare hands explore my chest, and I remember they felt warm.

  Chapter 6

  The wizard Verledn sat uneasily at an inlaid gold filigree table in his personal tower of his new keep. The table didn’t match any of the other sparse furnishings, which did not match each other either, the drawbacks of pillaging as a redecorating source. Verledn tapped irritably at a hardboiled egg and scowled at the two men standing in front of him.

  One was a fighting man, a type that Verledn had never been particularly comfortable around. Outfitted in studded leather armor with metal
plates sewn on in strategic places, Marl Fremvoller was one of the few mercenaries in the wizard’s employ who actually had military experience. As a result, he had become Verledn’s de facto general. The twin long swords that crossed his back were well used and deadly sharp. At the moment, he was standing patiently a few feet back from the table.

  The other man standing next to him was middle-aged but still fit enough to look dangerous. Dressed in red leathers and a garish cape, the acrid smell the fire wizard put off was nearly enough to kill Verledn’s appetite altogether.

  “What is so important that you must spoil my breakfast, Marl?”

  The mercenary saluted. “Your pardon, Lord Wizard, breakfast? It is barely past the midnight watch call.”

  Verledn answered, pushing his food away, “Wizards do not keep the hours of mere mortals. Besides, who could sleep with that insufferable racket going on outside? What happened this time?”

  “My Lord Wizard, there was another escape. You commanded me to inform you when anything odd occurred within the castle or the outer grounds.” The wizard grumpily waved his hand in a hurry up motion. “Four of the recent captures escaped with the help of some sort of spy or assassin.”

  The cloaked fire wizard standing next to Marl reached into his pocket and withdrew the bag holding the large onyx stone, removing it, he stroked it like a favored pet.

  “Go on!”

  Marl stood a bit stiffer at attention. “Someone disguised as an old woman entered the jail cell where we soften up the new wizard prisoners. He or she killed the guard and freed the four. One or more of them must have been a wind wizard, as they cast a spell which caused all four of them to rise straight up into the air above the height of our walls. While all this was happening, the assassin fought a delaying action against my men on the ground.”

  “Straight up?...Mere rudimentary levitation,” Verledn snorted dismissively, and again started to attack his breakfast. “Your crossbowmen should have been able to remedy the situation with a few well-placed quarrels, yet you say they escaped?”

  “Yes sir, a trained eagle or a familiar of some kind latched onto the four and towed them away. The last we saw of them they were moving fast out over the forest. One of the wall guards swears he skewered one of them in the leg as they escaped.”

  The wizard shook his head in exasperation. “How am I to build an empire with incompetent help like this?” he complained to no one in particular. “Well, at least tell me that you killed the old woman or assassin, or whatever it was. Or did he get picked up by an eagle as well?”

  Marl grimaced. “No, My Lord, the old lady disappeared somewhere behind the stables, but not before she killed an even dozen of my guards. We searched the compound the entire rest of the night with torches and lanterns, but found no trace.”

  “Why send an assassin with obviously superior skill sets to free a quartet of hedge wizards?” the fire wizard growled, still stroking the crystal.

  “Finally, an intelligent question,” Verledn barked. “If hedge wizards they were; I am mindful of the escape of our little seer. In my opinion, a wind wizard would have been a prime candidate for helping her escape, silent and leaving no trace through the air. The wench was in no condition to just get up out of bed and walk away. It may well be that the net we cast caught us her accomplice, and whatever group or individual hiding her is responsible for this evening’s fiasco. Retrieve these escapees and one of them may be able to lead us to the seer, and make no mistake gentlemen, I tire of your excuses for not finding the blind girl. Find her, or face her fate as well.”

  “But, My Lord, they escaped into the air! We have no way of tracking them!” Marl protested.

  Verledn glared at his general and then nodded at the fire wizard with a sigh. “What will it cost me for a solution to this problem, Lebahn?”

  The fire wizard, Lebahn, lifted the onyx crystal to his ear as if listening. Then he cackled and grinned broadly. “My mistress says for a mere fifty she will provide you with a magnificent stone gargoyle of average intelligence, more than sufficient to track down and capture any prey you should desire.”

  “Fifty! Ridiculous!” Verledn spat. “Besides, we can’t just have a bat-winged twenty-foot behemoth of a demon flying every which way over the countryside. People would notice, and that notice might make its way somehow to Sky Raven. No, I needed something low key and much, much cheaper!”

  Lebahn again put his ear to the crystal and grinned. “Fine, My Lord Wizard, something very low for ten then?”

  “Agreed, but I want that seer. And mind you, Lebahn, don’t be taking the souls of any of my earth wizards, I still need them for construction. You can have the low-grade healers and rainmakers; they’re practically worthless to me anyway.”

  “Done!” Lebahn exploded in hysterical laughter as he used the crystal to project a portal on the far wall.

  The curdled blood color of the ring repulsed Marl nearly as much as the stench emanating from the other side, as he stepped back unconsciously. Suddenly, movement low to the ground caught his eye as a river of molten-eyed horrors flowed over the threshold. Short of leg but long of body, black terrifying teeth snapping together like steel traps, they came. Ears flopping, steel claws drawing sparks on the stone floor, and tails wagging with unseen menace…

  “What the…” Verledn snarled.

  “Hellhounds, My Lord…specifically dachshund hellhounds since you requested that ‘low key’ effect. These are as low as they make them.” Lebahn smirked, still petting the black as night crystal.

  Chapter 7

  Ryliss

  Kerrik was in a bad way. While I was working on him, my sharp ears picked up the sound of the three wizards hurriedly collecting food, supplies, and gear and loading them on horses in the barn out back. They didn’t even plan on spending the night at the farm, their panic was so great. In the span of a few minutes, they rode off into the night as if the demons of hell were on their heels, abandoning the darkened farm without so much as a curse or a look behind them.

  Druids, unlike healers, do not have any special wizard sight to target injuries and afflictions. We just pump life magic into our patient and hope the body puts it to good use. I had barely caught him in time. Thankfully, my first heal managed to strengthen his faltering heartbeat and served to stabilize him. It was enough to allow me the time to seek out some healing mosses that are well known to my people. I applied the largest clump of moss as soon as I excised the quarrel, blood gushing weakly out of the wound in spurts. The pressure patch on the bleeding held just long enough for me to cast a second spell, which closed the wound, at least externally. Shaking with effort, I leaned back and watched a small amount of color return to his face.

  Carrying Kerrik the two hundred yards or more to the farmhouse almost did me in. I had already poured every ounce of healing energy I had into him after the others left him to die, and I literally had no reserve strength left. Kicking open the door, I laid him out on a long flat table. Ripping some ratty curtains off the window, I made a pillow for his head with one panel and covered him like a blanket with the other.

  I needed clothes for Kerrik and Andi, and the more pressing need of food for us all. Kerrik seemed to be sleeping relatively peacefully at this point. Closing the door behind me, I raced out to the barn to see if they had left behind any chickens or possibly a piglet. When I slid open the barn door, my nose was assailed by the odor of fresh droppings and sweaty fear. I estimated that five horses had been stabled here, and judging by the recent hoofprints in the straw and mud, the wizards took the entire string of them with them when they fled. That made sense as horses were a valuable commodity. Dejectedly, I smelled only equines in this barn, dashing my hopes for a quick meat meal. I was just about to turn and leave, when I heard the mild clump of hooves far back in the deepest reaches of the structure. Peering back into the gloom of the last pen, I spotted two shaggy heads huddled miserably in the corner. Stepping up to the gate, I saw two donkeys fearfully pressed up against
the back, averting their eyes from me. I could sense that they were not only afraid, but extremely hungry and thirsty. Apparently, the fleeing wizards considered them expendable, as well, and left them to starve.

  Opening the gate, I walked up to them and gently stroked their heads and mumbled words of encouragement. Drawing them out of the stall, I led them into one of the stalls recently vacated by horses; this one still had reasonably decent water and grain still in the feed bins.

  “Eat up, guys; this might be the last good meal you’ll get for a while,” I murmured, closing them inside the stall so they didn’t wander off. Both of them made a beeline for the water trough and started slurping noisily. “I’ll be back in a little while to free you…”

  On my way back to the house, my inner Jag’uri reminded me that a donkey would be a large, filling meal for everyone, but I quickly squashed that thought. Personally, I felt justified enough eating rabbits, raccoons, and small deer, but most of a donkey would go to waste even as hungry as I was, and I had no way to summon Naurakka. Besides, these two had already gotten a bad deal from life, I couldn’t in good conscience add to it.

  Kerrik was still asleep as I started canvassing the house for anything left of use. I did find some clothes that would work; serviceable work clothes. Fortunately, the woman had been slight of build. Food was a problem; anything ready to eat had been ransacked, and all I could find was the contents of a small root cellar. Potatoes, carrots, squash, and many crocks of fermented cabbage. I did luck into a small sack of dried apples, however. Reaching into my belt, I retrieved the bag of dimensions that Rosa had given me when I first started this work. Stuffing as many potatoes and carrots as I could into it, I figured I would worry about how to clean it later. Folded, I crammed this and the apples into my belt pouch. Gathering a few more vegetables into a scrap of cloth, I went back to where I left Kerrik.