by Ron Glick
Nathaniel paced. It was all he could think to do. Since Brea insisted on being alone with Derik, it left him and Bracken alone with Alsen. And neither he nor the dwarf felt comfortable with being in the sellsword's company. Though he had put away his sword, he had still presented a real and credible threat that made it difficult to simply relax in his presence.
Worse still was the obvious risk Derik himself posed. If what Alsen said was true, Derik was not exactly complicit in his enfeeblement, and to have his wits returned would not likely leave him in the most amiable of moods. And if the priestess' use of magic upon the horse was any indication, she would be left powerless to defend herself should she succeed in removing the geas upon the other mercenary.
“Yer gonna crack the groun', ya keeps a' it,” commented Bracken.
Nathaniel stopped and cast an erstwhile glance in the direction Brea had gone. The party had sheltered some distance within the trees once the fire had begun to rain from the sky, settling into a clearing several hundred feet removed from where they had made camp the night before. Yet it had been back in the direction of the camp that Brea had gone.
“That's it,” the man announced, reaching back and taking One from its sheath.
Alarm registered on the dwarf's face as Nathaniel vanished from sight. “She's no' gonna 'preciate yer followin' her,” he grumped.
Nathaniel ignored the dwarf and set off through the trees. He knew that One's power would mask his presence and that Brea would not even know he was there. But at least he would be within reach should Derik try to retaliate.
The notion that he even cared about the priestess' welfare confused him, but it was unmistakable to Nathaniel that he did care. Whether it was the lingering effects of the stranger's use of magic upon them that morning or simply a desire to shelter anyone in need from harm, he could not say. Regardless of the motivation, however, he could not resist the compulsion to act. He had resisted the urge initially, but in the end he had succumbed.
Nathaniel found Brea sprawled over the mercenary's body at the edge of the clearing where they had all camped the night before. At first sight, he feared that he had waited too long, that Derik had already acted. Yet when he rushed to the woman's side, he found only that they both rested.
Whether successful or not, the magics Brea used now exhausted her, just as Nathaniel had feared. If this was going to be a consistent pattern, he predicted that the woman would never be able to use magic again without the need of protection after each casting. Otherwise, she was virtually helpless.
The would-be rescuer sheathed his sword and knelt down beside the priestess. “Brea,” he said softly, doing his best to rouse the woman without waking the mercenary.
Nathaniel reached down and drew Brea gently back from the body of her patient, resting her lightly in the crook of his arm. “Brea, you need to wake up.”
A soft moan escaped the priestess' lips and her eyes opened drowsily. She smiled, and closed her eyes again, snuggling into his chest. “Nathan,” she whispered before drifting again into bliss.
With a sigh, Nathaniel hooked his other arm under the woman's legs and lifted her easily. Derik would simply have to wait, he thought. Let his brother deal with him, he decided.
Only a few minutes' walk separated Nathaniel from where he had left Alsen and Bracken, but in that time, the swaying of her body roused Brea from her rest. This time, when she looked up at the man, she registered confusion instead of acceptance, however.
“Nathan?” she fumbled. “Where's Derik?”
“Back where I found you,” Nathaniel responded. There seemed to be more expected from him, as Brea “I can go back for him after you're safely back with Bracken.”
Brea suddenly seemed to realize she was being carried and pushed back from Nathaniel's chest. “Can you put me down, please? I am more than capable of walking.”
Nathaniel set the priestess down just as Bracken came up to the pair. “Only 'er?” the dwarf prompted. Alsen was close upon the dwarf's heels, awaiting a response.
“He rests,” answered Brea. In response to the obvious agitation from the sellsword, she added. “He will rest through the day and evening, healing from his experience.”
“He rests,” Alsen repeated acidly.
Brea stiffened. “I do not appreciate your tone.”
“It's just convenient that you get to walk back, but Derik is 'resting',” said the young man.
Brea faced the mercenary for a moment before responding. “It is true that there was some concern that Derik might seek to retaliate, which would have forced another confrontation. Considering how unpredictable my abilities are now, there was no way to assure that he would not end up worse than he was before. This option will provide some distance between us, so that you will both be permitted to go your own way and perhaps give Derik the incentive he needs to not force another consequence for his behavior.”
“So you plan to leave before he wakes up? And I am to take your word that when he does, he will be normal?”
Nathaniel stepped forward. “You will need to, won't you?”
Alsen reached for his sword, but Bracken nudged him from the side, hoisting his own axe to remind the man exactly how many he faced should he draw. Reluctantly, the sellsword released his hold upon his weapon, raising both hands into the air.
“I am clearly without a choice, it seems,” he grumbled. “But know this, Lady Brea. Should my brother not recover, I will not rest until I have sought you out and made you account for what you have done.”
“There will be no need,” Brea said simply.
Alsen cast a glance around the group one last time, then ducked his head and walked away, carrying himself with as much dignity as he could manage while still avoiding the eyes of anyone else.
Once the sellsword had passed out of sight, Bracken hefted his axe to his shoulder. “M'thinks we shoul' be on our way soon's possible. No' ta doubt the Lady's magic or nuthin, bu' I'd rather 'void the chance yer wrong.”
“I can understand your concern,” Brea said. “Magic – or at least how I now see magic – is still somewhat new to me, but I know I removed the magic binding Derik.” She shrugged. “I can't explain it, I just know.”
“An' have ya considered wha' harm may 'ave been dealt while air were cut off ta the man's brain?” Bracken began to look around himself, gauging how soon they could gather what was left of their supplies and tackle. “Magic or no, you hurt the man's mind, an' tha' doesn' just go 'way 'cause ya took away the spell.”
Brea smirked. “That's not how magic works, dwarf.”
Bracken's left eye squinted. “Yer sure? Yer such a expert now, are ya? Seems to me, yer knowin' how magic worked woulda been real helpful in 'voidin' this mess ta 'gin with.”
Brea was about to retort when Nathaniel reached out and took her arm. “I don't think any of us really know how magic works, or none of us would be where we are. I say we set this aside and move on. Besides, even if you're right, Brea, can you guarantee Derik won't want revenge for what you did?”
Brea did not respond right away, but eventually her shoulders sunk in resignation. “You're right. Even if the damage is undone, he will be angry, and I cannot guarantee that he won't seek vengeance. 'The greater the distance, the weaker the ire,' says the Codex Imeretia, and I have found it to be truth.”
“The Codex what?” asked Nathaniel, releasing his hold on Brea so he could begin gathering what supplies had not departed with the horses.
Brea blushed. “It is the scripture of Imery. Only priests are permitted to read it.”
“Or 'parently ta even know it exists,” grumped Bracken. The dwarf moved over to the felled horse, still lying on its side. “Think ya can do somethin' 'bout the horse? Or are we 'sposed ta carry him now?”
“You would know of them if you were faithful of Imery,” retorted Brea, moving over to kneel beside the horse. “All her faithful are taught from its pages.”
Brea closed her eyes and called upon the inner sight which had granted he
r the ability to remove Derik's enchantment. This time, the sight came to her instantly without any resistance, presumably because she now knew consciously how to summon it. She could see the magic twined around the body of the beast, and with a casual mental tug, was able to remove it. The horse's eyes went wide once it realized it was free, and it immediately thrust back from the priestess, pulling its legs under it as it did so.
The horse stood hesitantly, eying Brea with trepidation. Its hesitation though cost it any choice in how to respond to its new-found freedom, however, as Bracken seized his tether, drawing the horse towards where he had secured the other three. “There, there,” cooed the dwarf gruffly.
Had Nathaniel not witnessed the dwarf's care of the horses during their sojourn, he would have suspected he had no talent for handling the beasts. Bracken's behavior appeared stiff and defensive now, as opposed to the gentle nature he had displayed previously. Clearly, whatever grudge he had towards Brea was affecting his attitude towards the horses. Nathaniel could only hope that though his temperament was affected, that his care would not.
“Did you say you could find where that one fire landed?” asked Nathaniel, as he secured the bridle of one of the horses. As he did so, he made a reckoning of what had both been lost.
Originally, Bracken and Nathaniel had had their own horses, and Brea's party had had four – an extra having been used as a pack animal. During the storm, Bracken's beast had fled, as had the pack horse, carrying with it a good portion of Brea's original gear. Had the group not been forced to flee into the woods prior to fully packing the horse, they would have lost it all. Fate had intervened though, providing that at least the rations that had not been packed and some bedding which fell away as the horse fled had been left behind. However, what moneys Nathaniel and the dwarf had with them were in the saddlebags of Bracken's horse, leaving the pair without the means to replace anything lost.
At least One was strapped to Nathaniel's back, and First had been secured to Nathaniel's horse.
Bracken grumped. “When a dwarf canna find 'is direction is the day 'e is no longer a dwarf.”
Brea's eye caught sight of something at the base of one of the trees and moved over to retrieve it. “Are dwarf's so infallible with direction?”
Bracken guffawed. “How ya think we coul' find our way un'er the mountain? Dwarfs can find their way in any d'rection. When tha' fire fell, I may notta known where 'zactly it hit, bu' I know the d'rection an' the distance. So's I can take ya righ' to it.”
Brea was a little disappointed to discover that all she had found was a discarded shirt belonging to one of the absent mercenaries, most likely. Shrugging, she still collected it and returned it to Nathaniel to pack on the horse. “Might need a rag sometime,” she commented.
Nathaniel took the shirt without comment and stuffed it in one of the saddlebags. “I think we've got everything,” he said. “Should we mount, Bracken?”
“Best ta lead 'em,” said the dwarf. “We'll be trekkin' through the trees, an' it's hard on 'em no' knowin' how sure the ground'll be.”
“Lead away then,” said Nathaniel, grabbing the reign of the pack beast and his own mount. The others each grabbed the reign of one of the other horses and the trio set out, following the dwarf into the woods.
The late autumn weather lent an auburn cast to the scenery. Much of what lay upon the ground now was freshly fallen from the odd storm, so that they made more of a wet slushy sound as they moved rather than the expected brittleness of crackling leaves.
For the most part, the group traveled in silence. Whatever remained to be said between them had been set aside for another time, as their loose alliance towards a common goal held their tongues in check. But Nathaniel knew there were unresolved issues and that sooner or later they would need to be expunged if they were to travel any great distance together. And not the least of those unspoken concerns were the suppressed feelings the priestess and he now shared.
Bracken drew up short without warning, squinting into the distance to the group's right. Absently, the dwarf passed his lead to Nathaniel. “Wait here,” was all he said before wandering off a distance into the trees. He did not go far however before he beckoned the others to join him, his arm flapping urgently.
“What is it?” asked Nathaniel.
“See this tree?” Bracken rested his hand upon the base of what appeared to be some kind of berry tree, green, yellow and violet bulbous berries scattered amongst the lower branches. “It's a fusang. It's s'posed ta be a myth'cal tree, rumored ta be one o' the trees o' life.”
Brea looked around at the surrounding woods. “Why is there only one? Shouldn't there be a grove of them?”
Bracken smirked. “Leave it ta a priestess ta no' know 'bout the trees o' life.”
“Bracken, please” cautioned Nathaniel.
The side of the dwarf's face crinkled. “As ya will,” he said before resuming his explanation. “Trees o' life're s'posed to 'ave their roots shoot all the way down ta the cen'er of Na'Ril, all linked t'gether. They's said ta shoot up from the roots, no' from seeds like other trees.”
“So why the berries, if not for seeds?” asked Brea.
“Fer life, priestess,” answered the dwarf. “The fruit's 'sposed ta be how some races live so long. E'en the tree's roots un'erground grow 'em, so's e'en dwarves 'ave the legend of 'em.”
In spite of the excitement that Bracken seemed to display, Nathaniel could not help but notice how the dwarf's eyes darted around him anxiously. “So what's the problem? What's got you so worried about this?”
Bracken grinned fiendishly. “'Cause fusang're the province of elves. And elves don't much 'bide anyone else near their trees.”
Bracken ran his hand lightly across the pale bark of the tree. “This is a young'un, p'rhaps twen'y spans tall. Fusang grow up ta a hun'ert spans. Mayhaps no elves've foun' this one yet, bu' I'd no' be trustin' that.”
Brea folded her arms in frustration. “Look, first of all, I've never heard of this so-called tree of life, this fusang. But even if elves were about, nothing in the lore I know about them suggest they are any concern of ours. But if you're worried about it, let's just leave the tree and go on. It's not like we don't have other things to do besides...”
Bracken licked his lips, looking longingly at the low-hanging berries in the tree. “Ya don' un'erstand, priestess,” he said. “E'en if the fruit o' this tree weren't worth more'n any of those God forsaken blades we're huntin', if elves be 'bout, they won' be lettin' us leave so lightly. If they e'en think we knows 'bout this tree, we won' leave these woods 'live.”
Nathaniel joined Bracken in glancing about nervously. “So what do we do? Leave or continue on? We can't very well un-discover the tree.”
Bracken walked around the base of the tree, moving his head from side to side as he looked into the branches. “We nee' to fin' one o' the suns,” me muttered. “Then we can fin' out who claims the tree.”
“Suns?” asked Brea.
Bracken lowered his gaze to glare at the priestess, his face displaying the distaste he held for the ignorance displayed by the priestess. “A fusang is said ta 'ave as many as ten suns per tree, tha' they live in the branches an' are carried inta the sky each day by a bird. 'Course, tha's jus' superstition, bu' there are suns... well, creatures o' light, tha' live in the trees. They act as pr'tectors, o' a sort fer the tree. They pr'tect the tree a' night, an' they can leave an' go fer help if they feel the tree is in danger.”
“So a sun can go for help from the elves, is what you're saying?” demanded Brea. “So why are we still here? Let's go before one of these things sees us.”
“Oh, we've been seen 'ready,” said Bracken as he resumed his search of the branches. “We jus' have'ta catch the beastie 'fore it runs off to tell on us, maybe convince it ta le' us go wi'out tellin' the elves.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” asked Brea as she joined the search.
“No' a clue,” grunted the dwarf. “Bu' the point's moot if
'n we don' find one.”
“There!” called Nathaniel. A slight glow could be seen behind a branch some distance up the tree.
Bracken rushed to Nathaniel's side, but the being hidden in the tree did not wait for the dwarf to reach the man's side. In a burst of speed akin to the light it appeared to be, a glowing ball of energy fell from the tree and darted off into the woods. Inexplicably, it stopped several feet away, hovering perhaps three feet from the ground, perhaps examining the people who had rousted it from its seclusion.
“A'fer it!” called Bracken, pushing as much speed out of his legs as he could manage.
“How are we supposed to catch a ball of light?” called Brea, but Nathaniel did not wait for the dwarf's answer. Without any further hesitation, Nathaniel raced into the trees.
Whether it saw the man rushing toward it or sensed his approach in some other way, the energy sphere responded instantly itself. Darting amongst the trees and shrubs of the forest, the light managed to keep ahead of Nathaniel as he chased after it.
Nathaniel lost all sense of time as he pursued the mysterious light. He dimly perceived himself dodging around saplings and leaping over fallen lumber. Vaguely he was aware that he was traveling much faster than he had ever run before, that somehow he was managing to keep pace with the enigmatic globule as it dodged through the maze of vegetation. Yet it was not something he dwelled upon – the more important task of eluding whatever consequences would follow should it successfully reach the elves who guarded its tree.
Nathaniel sidestepped a root that appeared in his path as he circumvented yet another trunk. As he shifted to avoid a fall, his eyes left the path of his query for only a moment, but it was enough time for the creature to completely vanish from sight.
The hunter stopped, trying to calm his breath as he strained for any sound that might reveal the direction the ball of light had fled. Not that the creature had displayed any kind of noise up to his point.
Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Acting more on instinct more than any other logical reason, he reached behind him and drew One from its sheath, willing himself to become unseen. An ambiguous thought came to him that perhaps if the being he chased could not see him, it might reveal itself, and so he did not resist when he recognized what was now a familiar feeling as the magic masked him.