Empire of Bones

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Empire of Bones Page 8

by Christian Warren Freed


  “Are you all right?” Nothol asked, suddenly worried. The look on her face was one he had never seen. Until now he didn’t think she had the capacity for hatred.

  Blinking rapidly to clear the tears, she offered a false smile. “Yes. Can you check my right leg? It hurts whenever I try to move it.”

  Nothol paused, unsure if her answer was genuine, before sticking his hands down into the brackish water. He fumbled blindly for there was too much flotsam to see beneath the surface. His fingers found her thigh and followed the bone downward. After a few seconds he looked up. “I don’t feel any breaks but there is a nasty stick pinning you to the barge. I’m going to have to break it to free you.”

  “Do whatever you need to,” was all she said.

  He nodded and plunged both hands back in the water. Fresh jolts of pain lanced up her leg as he grabbed hold and started applying pressure. She felt the jagged edge puncture her skin and stifled back a cry. Maleela wanted, needed, to remain strong in front of the others. She was the rightful heir to the throne of Delranan and a noble born lady. Pain was for lesser people. The branch snapped with a loud crack and Nothol pulled the pieces free. She peered at it, shuddering at seeing the nearly three-inch-thick circumference. She could have easily lost a leg.

  Nothol reached down and helped her up. “Lean on me, Maleela. Don’t use the leg to support any weight for a while. Once we get to shore I’ll clean the wound and dress it to prevent any infections. We’re at the edge of the jungle. Who knows what sort of diseases and the like they have down here. Not even Rekka is sure of them all.”

  “Rekka still lives?” Maleela asked.

  He nodded. “Yes. You were the last to be found. With the size of the debris field no one thought to look in the barge.”

  They slowly made their way out of the wreckage and waded through the knee-deep water to get to the shore. Maleela was greatly relieved to see a large fire burning and the horses, most of them, tethered to nearby trees. Stacks of supplies that had been salvaged before water could damage them irreparably stood high off to the side. She frowned at the loss of the wagon and the majority of supplies. What little she knew of the jungle frightened her. She didn’t see how they were going to survive long enough to reach Trennaron. Her gaze fell on broken Ionascu and her stomach tightened. Oh, she wished the wicked little man had drowned. As if sensing her disdain, Ionascu sneered back. Secretly she wondered if Skuld had run to report her conversation with Ionascu. She hoped he hadn’t, dealing with the broken Man would be her deepest pleasure.

  Bahr stormed over to her and took her in a great bear hug. “I thought you were lost!”

  Despite the seriousness of their situation she couldn’t help but giggle, for the act reminded her of times when she’d been a little girl. “Uncle, put me down! I’m all right.”

  He laughed and wept tears of joy for the first time in years. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Maleela. You are my only blood relative now.”

  “You should know it takes more than a little storm to kill one of us,” she replied, though the dark implications of his words bothered her. She grew up knowing of the deep animosity between brothers but never imagined it would result with Bahr abandoning all bonds of blood and kin. Father, what have you done?

  Bahr reluctantly set her down. “Let us hope so. Come, let’s get you into some dry clothes and warmed up. The jungle is no place to walk around wet.”

  “We are truly here? The Jungles of Brodein?” she asked with wonder. After so many weeks and months of trials and constant hardship she didn’t dare to dream they were so close to their final destination.

  “We are only on the fringes. The jungle is very big and very dangerous. We will need to be on our wits until I can guide us to Teng,” Rekka said from near the fire.

  Bahr looked up. “Teng? I thought we were going to Trennaron?”

  “We will never make it as is. Perhaps if the storm hadn’t wrecked us, but it is still very far. Much of our necessary supplies were lost to the water.”

  Maleela’s heart sank right along with the barge. She didn’t expect any of this to be easy, but after the intensity of their ordeals she figured they were due for a break. Any modicum of hope wasn’t much to ask for. Instead the world continued to conspire against them. She doubted any of them were going to reach the mythical temple.

  As if sensing her discomfort, Rekka offered a small smile. “Take heart, Princess. All is not lost. There are many hardships yet ahead but we have strength I have seldom encountered. We will find our way through the dark. My people will help us when we arrive.”

  “She’s right,” Anienam added from beside the fire. The old wizard looked like a drowned dog, again forcing Maleela to wonder just how long ago they’d wrecked. “It’s best to recover our strength here before pushing ahead. We should spend the night. Even with my magic and Rekka’s expertise, the jungle is too dangerous to travel in the dark.”

  Bahr agreed. “I’ll establish the guard roster. In the meantime I want this camp tidied up and made into a defensible position before nightfall. Whatever sent that storm after us is still out there. I don’t want to run into it off guard. Let’s get some food going. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”

  They settled about their normal chores and prepared for an uneasy first night in the Jungles of Brodein. Bahr prayed they lasted the night.

  * * * * *

  Cold winds bit harshly across the snow-covered fields. Their haunting echo screamed down from the mountains reminding Amar Kit’han of troubling times. Once, when he’d been mortal, he became trapped in a massive snowstorm. Buried, he lay trapped for three days before managing to dig his way free. That first taste of frigid air burned his lungs. Centuries later it was a feeling he never forgot.

  His ice-colored eyes stared at the others. “The storm proved only moderately successful. Our enemies have been run aground but are still a threat.”

  “It was your plan, Amar,” Kodan Bak hissed from beneath his hood. “We should have sent more convincing measures.”

  “Gnaals are dangerous beasts. You know this. They kill indiscriminately.”

  “They were created by dark magic during the Mage War,” Kodan insisted. “Their sole purpose is to serve our cause.”

  “They were created by Men, not the dark gods and certainly not by us,” Amar reminded harshly. “We have no dominion over such creatures.”

  “I thought we served the dark gods,” Kodan Bak attacked.

  Pelthit Re glided back, careful to remain neutral in the event they came to blows. Ideations of stealing power entertained him for the time being.

  Amar bristled with raw energy. “You dare question me?”

  “Only your sense of purpose. Perhaps these mortals have eluded you for so long you no longer know how best to neutralize them?”

  Rather than lashing out rashly, Amar folded his arms across his chest and decided to hear his subordinate out. The time was fast approaching when he would be able to remove the troublesome Bak without much effort, but not yet. Not until the dark gods returned to claim dominance over all life on Malweir. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge him one minor act of retribution for all his years of dedicated service. “Explain yourself.”

  Kodan, thinking he had finally gained the upper hand, answered, “Gnaals are beings of pure dark magic. The Mages are gone, we helped see to that, but their creations still haunt Malweir. They answer to dark magic.”

  “Giving us control over them,” Amar finished. The idea had merit and he was disappointed he hadn’t thought of it himself. “This idea warrants attention. Find them, Kodan Bak. Enslave them to our purpose and send them after the princess and her fool wizard. I want that group dead long before they reach the jungle temple. Artiss Gran will not have his chance to execute his revenge.”

  “What of the Hags?” Pelthit Re asked. Ever the one to exercise caution, the lesser Dae’shan focused solely on his subjugation of Delranan and Harnin One Eye.

 
“Useless creatures,” Kodan hissed sharply.

  Amar held up a staying hand. “The Harpies still serve a purpose. Have them brought to me. I have a specific task they need to accomplish before their servitude ends.”

  “They have failed more times than not and only two remain,” Kodan reminded them.

  Harpies had been hunted to near extinction and what remained were sorry representations of what they had once been. Three had been contracted to harry and harass Bahr upon leaving Chadra. Instead of performing adequately, the Hags grew careless and made their play much too soon, or too late depending on the point of view. One of them had been mortally wounded, leaving the two survivors sulking in their mountain haunts. Kodan regarded them as useless in every aspect and couldn’t figure out why Amar continued to keep them on a leash.

  “Their assault on the wizard was…unfortunate, but that doesn’t negate their uses. Instruct the Gnaals to kill all but the princess.”

  “You mean to capture her again?” Kodan asked, the surprise in his voice was too evident for his liking and told Amar just how eager he was to forge a new destiny for the Dae’shan.

  Amar fixed him with a deadly glare but said nothing. Let the fool stew in his anticipation.

  TEN

  Hunted

  The night grew much darker than any they’d ever experienced in the north. Hundreds, thousands of insects chirped or hummed. Large predators with luminescent eyes watched them from the safety of the jungle. Occasional loud crashes sounded out, making those few still awake cringe. All but Rekka and Anienam found the jungle alien. Even Boen, whose travels had taken him around the world and into almost every imaginable environment, felt displaced. His grip never left the hilt of his sword.

  As soon as he dragged himself up out of the wreckage of the barge he gathered his weapons and patrolled the surrounding area. This was no place to leave anything to chance. Veteran of a hundred campaigns, the Gaimosian was finally back in his element. The freedom of moving alone and at speed thrilled him. He crept past fallen trees and blended with bushes. He froze when strange sounds reached his ears. His eyes, once dulled, were now sharp, watching everything with great interest. He was the warrior again.

  Unbridled, Boen circled wide around the wreckage. He found one of the horses lying twisted with a large tree jutting from the ribcage. Grimacing at the horrible death suffered, Boen gave the mare a final pat on the neck before moving on. He fully expected to run into another party of river Men anxious for revenge. Scum like that were little better than herd animals. He harbored no qualms about slaughtering them. Just like they deserved.

  His turn at guard duty came and went but he couldn’t find sleep. His nerves were wound too tightly. Boen snorted. He was always wound too tight. Men in his profession often were. Only the strongest became fully acknowledged Gaimosian warriors. Each was promised a lifetime of wandering, trying to find their niche in life. They held no titles other than Vengeance Knights. No homes. No lands to call their own. They were the children of the world and executed their special brand of justice on those found wanting. Boen discovered early on that he thoroughly enjoyed his life’s calling. For him there could be no other way.

  The call of a jungle cat followed closely by a strangled cry and silence forced his eyes open. Boen stared skyward, enjoying the stars one final time before they entered the thick, double canopy of the jungle. Heavy rustling drew his attention without raising his guard. Whatever had killed the animal was finished and unconcerned with this large of a group. Kill or be killed. It was the law of life. Boen gradually closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

  Dawn broke with unusual splendor. The dark clouds were gone, replaced by crystalline blue skies and only the faintest wisps of clouds. Boen yawned and stretched. His muscles were sore from sleeping on the hard ground again after so long. His neck felt pinched and his eyes were red, sore. He’d never felt more alive. Decades of life in the field trained him to endure moments like this. Fatigue often set in on the less experienced, the younger. He was beyond that. The soreness would pass and he’d be back to his normal self soon enough. All he needed was a few moments of solitude. Hungry, he decided to take his sword and run through a series of warm-up exercises and drills. There was only shame in being caught unprepared.

  Dorl propped up on his elbows and watched Boen whirl through his drills. He’d never seen the like. The Gaimosian moved with such precision it hardly seemed real. Dorl thanked whatever god was listening that he didn’t run afoul of any Gaimosians.

  “He has much experience. You should know this already,” Rekka chided from beneath the blanket next to him.

  Dorl couldn’t help but grin. They’d lain together long into the night, enjoying the feel of each other’s arms. They kissed for a while before sheer exhaustion set in. He enjoyed the intimacy they shared while secretly wondering if it was going to last when things went sour. Rekka was a capable warrior with more skills than he could ever hope to possess. That left him a liability. He couldn’t decide whether she’d cut and run or stand by him to the bitter end.

  “I’ve never seen him actually practice. I thought Gaimosians were born with the killer gene,” he admitted.

  “Perhaps they are but every weapon needs to be honed before it can be put to use. They are a proud people, from what little I know. He is a good Man.”

  From what he gathered, Dorl seemed surrounded by good Men. That and a handful of good intentions wouldn’t buy him a pint in the local tavern. “These aren’t times for good Men, Rekka. Malweir needs rough Men who are ready to visit violence on others.”

  “That is a dour outlook,” she replied. “It would serve you better to abandon it before we get too far into the jungle.”

  The jungle. He felt unrealized fear at the very thought. “What lies within?”

  “Many things,” she answered too quickly for his liking. “There is great beauty as well as mystery. Death and life are boon companions. It is the most dangerous environment I have ever been in.”

  “That doesn’t help my confidence,” he said flatly.

  Rekka’s hazel eyes shined in the morning sun. “Nor should it. The jungle is capable of killing in a thousand different ways. Caution alone will not be enough to ensure our safe passage. Take heart though, my love, all is not bad. I grew up here. I can keep us alive long enough to accomplish our task.”

  Dorl wasn’t entirely sure but had no other option but to trust in her abilities. She was their only link to the inside world of the jungle. He sighed and started to get up. “I hope this Hamr is worth it. I have a feeling we’re about to have plenty more dumped on us before the end.”

  Rekka cocked her head, failing to understand what he meant by dumped. “Our enemies will not tire, Dorl. Neither can we. This task goes well beyond your personal needs or mine. All Malweir stands in the balance. If we fail, the world will plunge into eternal darkness.”

  “You really believe that?” he asked.

  “Yes. The guardian of Trennaron is very wise, ancient. He knows the dark times approaching have been heralded for centuries. As does Anienam, they are akin to each other.”

  The idea that another venerable magic user locked in his ivory tower for countless centuries contemplated the end of the world didn’t sit well with him. Having Anienam around was maddening enough, he didn’t relish the thought of being around two such beings. No wonder the world banded together to end the Mage orders. They can’t be trusted.

  “Everybody up and pack! We need to get moving before the sun gets too high,” Bahr called from beside the stack of supplies. He and Nothol were already loading what they could on the horses. Some Groge put in his pack and hefted to his shoulders. The Giant had near infinite capacity to carry the heavy load.

  Weary from a waterlogged night, the tiny band forged ahead into the jungle.

  They kept moving until dusk, stopping only at Rekka’s insistence. Going through the motions of a, by now, well-rehearsed exercise, they established camp and began the guard roster
. The sun set without fanfare as the darkness swallowed the jungle. Insects and worse emerged from their daytime hiding spots. The jungle took on a completely different feel. It was claustrophobic, haunted.

  Bahr didn’t mind so much. He’d never been this far south but wasn’t letting that stop him from enjoying this new world. Ever the explorer, Bahr studied the trees, insects, and what rare animals he found lurking through the thousand shades of green. Now older than he liked to admit, the dispossessed sea captain stifled a yawn. He seldom took later watches, knowing he was already past the point of exhaustion. Aside from Boen, he was the oldest of the group. Anienam didn’t count, since no one rightly knew how old the wizard was and they didn’t trust him to pull guard duty correctly anyway. Let the young ones pull the middle shifts. I’m getting too old for games. He smiled despite being beaten down and in need of a long vacation.

  Bahr stiffened suddenly. His skin crawled with intense feelings of evil. Cold sweat poured from his flesh. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A hand slid to his sword, subconsciously knowing it wouldn’t be enough even if he managed to draw it in time. Almost frozen from fear, Bahr desperately scanned the area for signs of his assailant. Darkness leered back at him. The jungle was the darkest he’d ever seen, making it next to impossible to see more than a few meters into the murk. He was blind. Frightened.

  Heavy footsteps announced the approach of a massive predator. The ground trembled with each fall. Leaves fell from branches. Stones cracked and shattered. Bats and nocturnal birds erupted from the treetops in waves. The cold feeling of dread continued to rise, as if the very world had grown diseased. Bahr felt bile rise in his throat. A pair of crimson eyes opened, staring directly into his soul. He cringed. Unable to look away or blink, the Sea Wolf watched as death stalked closer.

 

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