The old man seemed to care for it greatly, but he could see now that the box did not belong to the old man. He could see that this box was in the wrong place. He turned his head and scanned the distant horizon. He was indoors, so his senses were obscured, but he could still see that somewhere to the north, in the city, was a match for this box. Yet, it was not time for its intended to receive it. First it must go even further north, to a place where violence would soon occur, a place where another of his kind was headed. He had to go there now. He had to take the box with.
He suddenly heard the old man and the four of his people returning from their exercises. He communicated to them that he was leaving, and that he had to take the box away. They communicated back that he must hurry, because they were coming very near, and it would not be long before the old man found that the box was gone. Then he could sense a near panic in their leader’s mind. It seemed their leader did not think there would be enough time. He was curious what would happen if he stayed, but he thought better of it and started on his way.
~Æ~
“Rubalt, are you all right?” Argus asked as he helped the little man up from the ground. He limped as he rose. Argus assumed he had turned an ankle.
“Come with me. I have bandages in the pantry. We’ll bind that up for you. It will heal in a few short days,” Argus said kindly.
‘How uncharacteristically clumsy of Rubalt,’ thought Argus.
XXV
Some men live for only twenty years.
Others spend seventy-five slowly dying.
– Blade, original leader of the Talons of Freedom
Maurious whispered to Blade, “They are waiting for us below.”
Blade halted the troop just short of the southern exit of the swamp.
“Who? How could they? This is not even the way we came,” Blade said.
“I believe they are Bok. But there are two others.” Maurious looked as if he were concentrating. He did not look down to where the hostile party was, but looked around the swamp in all directions, then held tightly to the nearest branch, as if gleaning some information from the tree itself. “One is Bok, human, machine, I don’t know. The other is small, and he can see. He can see everything. He is the one who led them here,” Maurious explained. He seemed a bit shaken.
“How many Bok?” Blade asked.
Maurious composed himself, and set back to business. “There are about thirty, give or take, about the same number as us. Again, the choice is yours, Blade. There are other ways out of the swamp, but changing course now will make certain you will not arrive in time to help Liam.”
“We fight,” Blade replied.
“Very well, then. This fight will be difficult. They have released my horses. It will take many hours to recover them, but they have three more horses with them. You will need to capture them. It may be the only way to make it to the capital in time.”
Blade looked back at Maurious. “One day the advantage will become ours.”
Maurious nodded, then, decision made, looked to Blade with a wry grin and said, “Come now, Blade, stop being so prophetic. Go out there and kick some Bok hide. I know you will.”
Blade betrayed a trace of a grin, then turned to the group. He explained that the Talons would spread out, each according to Maurious’s directions. They could hide from the sight of the Bok, but there was someone with them who would be able to tell where each of them lay hidden; therefore, they had to move fast. Each would move to his appointed spot quickly, and each would decide for himself when and how to attack.
The Talons lined up. In succession each received his orders from Maurious and followed his directions quickly and efficiently, climbing their way through the lush vegetation. Again Rhoie was amazed at how the figures seemed to walk on air through the branches. In a short time, it was Rhoie’s turn.
“Well, hello Rhoie, it has been a pleasure to have you with us,” said Maurious.
Surprised at Maurious’s oddly hospitable nature at such a critical moment, Rhoie answered simply, “Thank you.”
“You are Liam Foster’s boy,” Maurious continued.
Rhoie almost corrected him, but thought better of it. “Yes, he raised me.”
“You should be proud. You must go to him, Rhoie. He will have great need of you. There are three horses. You must take one. I will send Dilano on another, but I am afraid he may not complete the journey with you.”
Rhoie’s breath left him for a moment, unsure of what to make of Maurious’s words. He pushed his questions aside. “What must I do?” he asked.
Maurious explained how to navigate the path to his appointed spot, and then put a hand on Rhoie’s shoulder. “Much is expected of you, young Rhoie. In you, I can see the promise of Jeandania. Protect it well.”
‘The promise of Jeandania?’ Rhoie thought. He shook off the confusion and focused on Maurious’s directions.
“And Rhoie?” prompted Maurious.
“Yes?”
“Best not to laugh in the face of the Goddess of Death. Atai was in good humour the other day. Normally she is quite a bit more ... cranky.”
Rhoie nodded. “Good advice,” he agreed, remembering the strange laughing sound he had heard among the trees a few days before.
He put it out of his mind for the moment. There would be time for reflection later. He tried to concentrate on where he had to go: right at the trunk of the first tree, onto the third branch in height, out that branch, over the first group of leaves, look to your left, three steps down. Approaching each juncture, he was certain he would never find the way, but each time he did. He held on to whatever he could reach with his hands to help him keep his balance. When Rhoie reached his position he could see the swamp beneath, and could hear the breathing of the Bok.
~Æ~
Gastious tightened the straps onto his armour. The Mikraino was growing more and more excited. He had led them to this spot an hour ago. Until now, he sat staring up at the trees, his gaze gradually moving left and right. Oktook complained from time to time that his men would grow sick if they stayed still in the swamp too long, but his ire was muted by his fear of the mysterious magic which the little man seemed to wield. Oktook grew visibly more uneasy as the Mikraino’s head moved back and forth more broadly. He seemed to be watching something in the trees that no one else could see. The left to right, to and fro motion of his head became more and more exaggerated, until finally he seemed to track something that moved all the way around and behind the Bok. Oktook did not know much about these little black-eyed men, but he understood enough.
“Oktook,” Gastious commanded. “Ready your men. The Talons are taking position.”
Oktook’s eyes widened as he watched the little man, who was now breathing heavily, and obviously frightened. “Bok,” he ordered. “The Talons are upon us, prepare for battle.”
Oktook guided his horse to a place where the thick swamp foliage relented for a few feet around his head, likely thinking it to be the most defensible position.
Gastious breathed deeply, calming his nerves, and steeling himself for a fight. He spotted a man in the trees. Just a passing shadow overhead of one of the Bok. Gastious did not warn him. He thought it more beneficial to observe how the Talons attacked.
He heard a splash beside him. The Mikraino had jumped off his horse. Gastious looked around. The Mikraino had disappeared.
Gastious spared his curses. He was actually grateful the disturbing creature had left. The King may be upset, but Gastious thought it just as well to be rid of it. He tightened his harness, moved his arm of steel around to feel the balance, and watched the forest carefully for further signs of the Talons of Freedom.
~Æ~
Maurious held tightly to the trunk of the tree. His skills were feeble compared to his father’s, but they were adequate for his purposes. Few realised that trees actually communicated with one another. It was a simple language, simpler than the language of reptiles or insects. When an animal ate the leaves of a tree, or an insect b
urrowed into its bark, or a noise was made in a tree’s vicinity, chemicals were released into the air which other trees could sense, something like a warning. The other trees then released poisons in preparation for an attack. After the danger had passed, the trees stopped releasing the chemicals. Understanding the language of the trees relied upon a person being able to sense those things. The trees were always being landed upon, burrowed into, or approached at many points. If one were sensitive enough to understand these signs, a great deal of information could be discerned by listening to the trees. Through many years of practise, Maurious was able to sense the intensity of the signals, and the direction from which they came. This is how he knew where the Bok were positioned, and how many there were.
This is also how he sensed the odd pulse of a seer. The seer was also reading the trees, and sending messages through them. The seer was clearly far more adept at this skill than Maurious. It was almost as if he were talking to the trees, and Maurious could feel it.
He readied his staff, clicking the blades open at the ends. This seer was a threat to him and to his home, and a threat to Liam Foster’s campaign.
The odd pulse was quickening. The seer was drawing near.
~Æ~
Rhoie knew what he was supposed to do. His directions were simple. Avoid the Bok and find the horses. Rhoie knew that a Bok was beneath him. He could not see exactly where the Bok stood, but he could hear the thick slobbery breath. He would wait for the Bok to pass, and then drop down and find his way to the horses. Maurious had told him that they would be close.
~Æ~
Dilano heard footsteps slosh through the swamp towards him. Another two or three steps and the Bok would be in sight. Then he would strike.
~Æ~
Oktook signalled to Gastious, twenty feet away. Gastious saw the gesture, but did not acknowledge it. He understood that a Talon was poised in the branches above and behind him. He was ready.
~Æ~
Blade decided to strike. He leapt from the tree and onto the back of the horse, but it seemed the beast was ready for him. In the half a moment it took for him to fly from the branch to the horse; his enemy turned, and lashed out fiercely with his arm, which was not an arm at all, but a massive broadsword.
~Æ~
Rhoie crawled out onto the branch, searching for a concealed spot to drop to the ground. The branch was thin, but he had travelled through the swamp enough to know that it would not break under his weight unless it was already damaged. Apparently it was damaged. He heard the branch crack and felt it begin to give way. Time slowed for him as he dropped from the tree into the shallow water. He was uninjured, but lost sight of the massive Bok as he fell beneath the water, and by the time he lifted his head above the surface, he saw the Bok trudging towards him, nearly within striking distance. As Rhoie scrambled for cover behind the nearest tree, he could see the Bok converging on all sides.
~Æ~
Dilano’s strike hit his target, but awkwardly. The Bok was down, but still alive. Dilano thought that he would be no trouble to dispatch now that he was wounded, but the Bok surprised him. Instead of readying his sword to finish the Bok, Dilano found himself desperately defending himself against the brute’s attack. The blade of his sword caught the Bok’s mace in mid-swing with a loud clang. The mace came down with great force. Dilano managed to deflect the blow, but was forced to dive to his left and into the swamp. With no solid ground on which to roll and gain his ground, he did the only thing he could think of, and stayed submerged under the shallow, murky water. He grabbed the Bok’s leg, and used it to pull himself up behind the Bok, who confusedly thrust his mace into the water in the hope of striking the slippery Talon. His thrust missed, giving Dilano enough time to take out his knife and bury it in the back of the Bok’s knee, a strike which would hobble any mortal. He nimbly pulled himself to a stand and turned to find the Bok holding his mace over his head, ready to strike again.
~Æ~
By Rhoie’s hasty count, four Bok were splashing towards him, and one just on his heels. He managed to pull himself around a tree just as the first whack of the Bok’s mace bit into the bark. Rhoie drew his sword and swung at the Bok’s hands as the great beast struggled to pull his weapon free. It was Liam who had taught him that strategy as they walked together, and it may have saved him. The Bok screamed horribly and pulled his arms away. Rhoie’s slash had incapacitated one of the Bok’s arms, which was now squirting blood, but his other arm grabbed for a long knife at his belt. Rhoie could see his face clearly. A great black scar cut across his blood spattered forehead. Rhoie swung his sword again, and missed completely. The converging Bok around him crashed faster through the water. Rhoie took another wild swing at his attacker, but the bleeding Bok stepped away easily, and moved towards him.
Then, like a rain of warriors, the remaining Talons of Freedom dropped from the trees above.
~Æ~
Maurious pulled back from the trunk of the Foganta. The battle was joined, and the seer was nearly upon him. He prepared for an attack. The screams and groans and clanks of metal rose violently through the trees around him; but Maurious stood still, listening for quieter sounds; a rustling leaf, a creaking branch, anything that might give away the position of the seer.
Maurious leapt forward a half step and spun around, staff drawn, to meet his pursuer.
~Æ~
Blade was badly injured. The beast had nearly removed his arm with his mighty swing. He lay helpless on the root of the Foganta, awaiting death. It was not death he feared, but failure. He was about to leave his men without a leader. He had not even killed one before he was taken out of the battle. His attacker dismounted his horse and approached his prey. He leaned over. He was clearly Bok, but strangely human.
“You must be Gastious,” stated Blade.
“That’s right, boy. I am the personal bodyguard and special envoy of the King. I am the King’s Prime.” he said, in a voice that conveyed both derision and amusement. “Tell me, why do you paint your face?” He seemed more interested in tormenting his victim than he was in the battle taking place around him.
Blade summoned his strength. “To express my allegiance to my country.”
Gastious snorted, then pressed his sword into Blade’s neck. “Your King is your country, boy. If your allegiance is not to Arconus, you are a traitor.”
Blade spat on Gastious’s sword.
Gastious sneered and moved as if about to push the sword into Blade’s neck, then he relaxed. “You have spirit, boy. I would like to introduce you to my pets. A man like you may take some time in getting to know them.”
~Æ~
Rhoie owed his life to the rain of Talons. The Bok that were converging on him were now engaged in battle with his brethren. The scar-headed Bok pulled his knife back, ready to strike, then he stopped. It appeared to Rhoie as if he were teetering like a tall tree being chopped down from the base. He nearly fell on top of Rhoie, who pushed himself clear of the body. The Bok’s face turned down into the swamp as it started sinking. Darryck stepped up beside him and drew his throwing knife from the back of the Bok’s neck.
“You hit the spine,” Rhoie observed.
“Good thing, too. Anything else would have just annoyed him,” Darryck answered.
“Yeah, nice throw,” Rhoie said absently.
“Thanks, Polly,” he said, “but I think you’re going to have a job of it trying to steal one of those horses. Leave the fighting to the veterans for the rest of the day.” Then he moved to intercept another Bok who was charging towards them. “Go, move it, Rhoie. Go!”
Rhoie trudged off as quickly as he could in the direction Darryck had indicated. He could hear and see pockets of fighting close to him, but not near enough to be a danger. His hopes lifted at the sight of the horses, but then dropped as he looked hard to confirm what else he saw. It was Blade lying on the thick roots of a tree, and Gastious dismounting one of the horses.
~Æ~
Dilano was exhausted. He
was not certain that he could even swing his sword hard enough for a killing blow. The Bok fought crudely, but was strong and fast. It seemed impossible to make a clean strike. There was much activity around him, but no one available to help.
Then Dilano saw a large slithery shape in the water – a crocodile. The Bok was bleeding into the water, and the blood was luring the predator. It occurred to Dilano that there might be quite a few crocodiles making their way towards them.
Dilano tried to keep his nerves and his balance, as he manoeuvred through the water and tree roots, keeping the Bok between himself and the crocodile. The Bok did not resist Dilano’s subtle guidance. Then it occurred to him that the Bok might just be watching another crocodile creeping up on him. Dilano put the thought out of his mind. He needed to stay committed.
The Bok took another swing. Dilano ducked and moved his sword to glance the impact away from his body. Rather than take a weak swing that would likely be blocked as the others had, he regained his balance as quickly as he could and moved back and forth to keep the crocodile at the Bok’s back. The Bok held his mace near his head for quicker movement, and lunged again. Dilano was tiring from defending the continuous blows. He would have leapt backward over the thick roots behind him to evade the barrage, but the crocodile was almost upon them.
The Bok suddenly stopped swinging his mace with a bewildered look on his face. He cringed in pain as the crocodile bit into his leg. The Bok took one last desperate swing at Dilano, who easily sidestepped the blow. Then the Bok started sliding backward. Dilano saw the crocodile release his grip and grab on again higher up the Bok’s leg. The Bok reached for the long knife on his belt. Had it been a man, Dilano would have let the crocodile finish him off, but he decided not to underestimate these beasts again. He took his sword in the air and severed the Bok’s head before the crocodile could pull him away.
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