by David Wind
When he was done, everyone stood, went to their sections, and gave the orders. In a quarter hour, guards manned the perimeter and the rest lay in their silks, resting as best they could for shortly the battle would begin again.
Just as she was drifting off to sleep, a knife-like pain cut through her head. Enaid groaned and was still. Roth sat quickly and turned to her. In the dancing firelight, he saw her face was as white as the silks upon which she lay. He pulled her to him, shook her gently, but there was no response.
Lowering her to the ground, he raced to where Ilsraeth and Timon slept. Waking Ilsraeth, he said, “Something has happened to Enaid.”
Ilsraeth was on her feet instantly and with Timon and Roth running behind, she raced to Enaid. She dropped to the ground next to the fallen high queen, put her hands to each side of her head and tried to gain entry to her mind.
She looked up at Roth. “It’s Mikaal. She is trapped with him.”
<><><>
An hour after she’d left the plateau, and as the day ended, Areenna saw the light of fires far below. Gaalrie had already shown her where Mikaal was—at the camp where the closer fires burned. Her aoutem had also shown her other things. At least fifty of the Master’s followers were at the camp, and three of the wolf-creatures they had fought on their journey here.
She joined again with Gaalrie and asked her to descend to the base of the mountain and show her how many of the ghazi camped below. As she descended again, Charka staying close behind, she tried to reach Mikaal but failed. Yet, she sensed something and slowly realized there was no block on Mikaal; it was something else, something far worse. Whatever it was, it held his mind prisoner. It was an unnatural thing—a potion, she assumed, knowing only those of dark power would use such.
She had heard many stories about the days before Roth had come, of how the Afzaleem sorceresses, who could not control a woman of power, would create potions to take over one’s mind and bend it to their will.
Her concern mounted. If Mikaal was under the influence of a potion, she feared what the Master could make him do. Her pace quickened along the downward trail. Suddenly, as if blades were striking into her head, pain seared through her. She fell to her knees, her hands pressing the sides of her head until she created a block. It took several tries for her to catch her breath and when she did, the pain dulled somewhat but did not leave.
The Master was doing something to Mikaal, and he was fighting him back, even under the might of the potion. She tried to stand, but the attack had weakened her. Reaching behind, she grasped Charka’s leg, using it to gain her feet. She turned to him and pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Each drew strength from the other and together, they willed their strength to reach Mikaal.
Minutes later, the pain finally gone, she heard Gaalrie’s silent call and joined with her. Below the treygone, beneath the Master’s camp, a few hundred feet above the foothills, was another ghazi camp with several hundred of the malformed creatures.
She sent Gaalrie to range further and when the treygone did, she discovered another encampment. This one made her breathe easier. The people gathered there were not ghazi but Nevaen. Roth had come. Hope sprang quickly but died when she could not reach Enaid. Why?
Find Enaid, she told Gaalrie.
Gaalrie flew low over the camp. She circled once and dove to the ground, landing next to Ilsraeth. Areenna watched as the Queen of Northcrom tended Enaid. She saw that neither Roth nor Ilsraeth had realized Gaalrie had landed.
When Gaalrie hopped on Enaid’s chest, Ilsraeth reared back, startled. It took a few more seconds for Ilsraeth to recognize Areenna’s aoutem. When she did, she stroked the treygone’s head. Areenna, through Gaalrie’s eyes, turned to Ilsraeth. “Something has happened to Enaid. And to Mikaal,” Ilsraeth said to Gaalrie.
Areenna called Gaalrie back.
From behind came footfalls. Spinning, she drew her sword and called up her powers as several dark forms rose up.
CHAPTER 32
It took only a second to recognize Laira. Stunned, Areenna looked at her two companions, whom she recognized as well. Akassia and Trebor held still under her gaze, frozen to the spot and staring at her sword.
Areenna lowered the weapon. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was barely audible yet her heart beat calmer now with the presence of her three friends.
Laira stepped forward. Her ret slid out from beneath her cloak to raise its head to Areenna. It did not hiss at her. “We were sent here by the… the woman of the Island.”
“Sent,” she whispered. “How so?”
“She told us we would be needed here. That you would need us.”
Areenna reached out and caught Laira’s shoulder. She dropped her sword to engulf the young woman in a tight embrace. “Truly, help I need. How strong have you become since the Island?”
My mother says I am stronger than she is, Laira said in the silent talk of women.
We will need the strength. “And you,” she asked Akassia, releasing Laira from her hold, “How did you fare on the Island?”
Akassia grasped Areenna’s left hand. When their skin met, a flow of energy raced through her. She said I have one purpose for now. To heal. When I asked more, she said I will know how and what I must do.
And you will. Aloud Areenna asked the three, “Are you prepared to fight?”
Laira cocked her head to the side. “Tell me.”
It took only a few minutes to sketch out the situation. When she finished, Trebor spoke. “How many are in the camp?”
“At least fifty… most likely more. And there are wolves.” Their blank expressions almost made her smile. “Terrible creatures. They are bigger than a rantor, and covered with fur. They’re the most vicious animals I have ever seen and they’re controlled by the darkness.”
“Do they die?”
Areenna nodded. “Mikaal and I killed many. He was injured doing so.”
Trebor nodded “What do you propose?”
Areenna studied Trebor in a different way than she had before. Since they had been in the school together, Trebor had grown into a large man, tall, strong, and broad. She knew exactly how to use him, and why the Eight had sent him. As she was about to respond, Gaalrie cried out and dropped to her shoulders. “Laira, have you a writing cloth?”
The young sorceress reached into her tunic and withdrew a soft linen. Areenna took it, transferred a message and gave it to Gaalrie, who closed her talons around it. To Ilsraeth.
When Gaalrie flew off, she turned to the others. “Mikaal has been given a potion to control him. We must get him out, no matter the cost. If the Master controls him, he will control Nevaeh.”
<><><>
Gaalrie dropped to Roth’s camp, alighted next to Enaid and Ilsraeth and released the cloth. The Queen of Northcrom scooped up the message. Looking at Roth, she said, “I know what must be done. Mikaal is under the control of a potion. The Master is trying to take his mind, to drain it and control him. Enaid is a powerful woman and because of Mikaal’s abi—” Ilsraeth cut herself off. When she was certain no one but Roth and Timon were near she said, “Because of his abilities, the connection between mother and son is strong and different. It is what caused this.”
Closing her eyes, Ilsraeth bent her head and created a block to encase her and Enaid. Building the block was time consuming. It took several minutes and a lot of determination.
When she completed the block, she sank to the ground, exhausted. Timon, who had been standing with Roth, knelt by her side and wrapped his arms around her. Ilsraeth leaned against him and took several breaths. As she did, Enaid’s eyes flickered open.
It took another minute for Enaid to gather herself and try to sit up. Roth reached down to her and grasped her hand, helping her to a sitting position. She traced the contours of his face. “So far away was I. So dark a place, so… vile.”
Ilsraeth handed her a cup. “Drink,” she told her. “It will help.”
&
nbsp; Enaid drank the water and tasted herb within it. “The Master tries to control Mikaal. He attempts to learn about him, about how he… how he is what he is.”
Then she saw Gaalrie by her feet. I am myself, she told the treygone, knowing Areenna would know as well. Gaalrie took to wing and Enaid turned to the others. “We must free him soon. The Master is strong. Mikaal fights, even unconscious he fights, but the darkness will get through.”
Roth stared at the mountain and at the hazy glow of the fires above and thought of Noslen. “We cannot go now. The advantage they hold by their position will defeat us if we move as an army. No, we will need stealth, and stealth means moving slowly.” Roth hesitated. “There is a way, but I need to think this out.”
“Take not too long, my Lord,” Enaid whispered.
<><><>
The four lay on the ground, ignoring the way the leeching cold sucked heat from their bodies, intent on inspecting the small campsite below them. The main camp of the ghazi was an eighth of a mile beneath.
Areenna took in the dark figures, the wolves, and the tent where Mikaal was. Of the Master, there was no sign. Akassia had created a block to surround them and knowing too well the danger of trying to sense the Master, she continued to look around.
“We are fortunate,” she whispered. “The Master is not here. He must be at the lower camp with his… men.”
“There are still too many to fight,” Trebor said.
Areenna cast her eyes below once more. There was an area to the right, where the mountain appeared steep enough to warrant no guards. Was it too steep? She called to Gaalrie, who responded with a wave of gentle warmth. She asked her to fly low over the steepest part of the mountainside so she could see.
Gaalrie dipped low, and Areenna saw the slope littered with half buried rocks. If she handled herself well, she could use those to keep herself balanced. Thank you, Sister.
“Here is what we must do,” she said. Two minutes later, her explanation finished, she surveyed the three faces whose features told her she was insane. Instead of trying to convince them with more words, she laughed lightly.
“Trebor, after the two guards at the entrance to the tent are dealt with, wait no more than a minute and ride Charka to the tent. I will need your strength and the kraal’s to get Mikaal out. He will be unconscious and unable to help. Do you understand?”
Trebor looked down at the camp. “I do,” he whispered.
“Akassia. Maintain the block around the three of you, no matter what.”
“I will,” Trebor’s betrothed said.
“Laira, your task is harder. When Trebor rides, you must disrupt the camp. What is your most powerful weapon?”
Laira smiled widely. “It was the first ability I discovered during my mother’s training. It… it was not a weapon, but an ability to move small objects, like sand and dirt and pebbles. I can manipulate and increase the speed of what I move. I can create a dust storm, or blind a person by spraying sand or dirt into their faces.”
Areenna studied the positions of the dark-armored figures. “The ground is hard and damp. Are you sure you can use the dirt?”
Rather than respond, Laira turned her eyes to the camp. Areenna sensed the power rising in Laira and watched the edge of the camp. Between two ghazi, a small whirlwind, no higher than a few inches, rose and shot upward into the mountainside. Neither ghazi moved.
“There is no problem,” Laira said.
“When the two guards are dealt with, aim your first attack on those closest to where we escape. Work both sides but stop when we get out and concentrate on the ones behind us.”
“It will be done,” Laira said, solemnly.
Areenna’s heartbeat quickened as she called up her power. It grew quickly. “I will signal when I’m ready. Go to the trail, Akassia. Do not let the block fall.”
She started up, but stopped. “There is one more thing I must do.”
She went to the path, the three following behind, and stepped close to Charka. Placing her hands on the sides of his head, she pressed her forehead to his and built a mind picture of Trebor mounting and riding him to the tent below. For Mikaal.
His response was immediate and she released him. “Wait for my signal,” she repeated. It took her ten minutes of careful walking to make certain she did not kick any rocks, for they would slide on the patchy snow and tumble down to the camp below. She could not afford to give them any warning.
Once settled on her route, she drew her shortsword and closed her eyes. Gaalrie flew above, to give aid when the time came. She sent an asking to Charka, and the kraal responded by rearing soundlessly on his back legs.
She moved down the slope where Gaalrie had shown her, although it was steeper and slower than she had thought it would be. Her need to reach Mikaal pushed her relentlessly onward. She worked her way along the side of the mountain, stepping from rock to rock and securing her footing with every downward inch she traveled.
Moving fast, her fingers digging into the frozen ground or grasping partially sunken sharp-edged rocks for support, she crept lower along the mountainside. Her scratched and cut hands left droplets of deep red blood to mark the trail with her descent.
Frustrated because it was taking longer than she’d planned, her anxiety reached a fever pitch while her sense of danger screamed out warnings with her every breath. Only when she was at the edge of the camp, and after she forced herself to calm down, did she call upon her gifted ability to hide. She was gone from sight in an instant.
Moving past the first guard undetected, she took five strides and stopped to look around. On her right was a single guard; to her left, twenty feet from the tent was a string of ghazi guards. They stood six feet apart, their eyes fixed on the trail leading up from the foothills, for all knew the only attack could come from the foothills below.
There were two guards at the tent’s entrance. They stood with less than a foot between them. Areenna moved forward, her pace slow as she worked out how to take them. The sword was in her right hand; she reached to her side and drew the long knife.
She stopped three feet before them. Drawing in a deep breath, she braced one foot behind her, tensed her muscles and charged forward, sword and knife held level before her.
The sword hit the first guard in the throat a half second before the knife did the same to the guard on the left. The metal went deep into their throats but she did not hesitate; she kept pushing forward and burst through the tent’s split flap to land on her knees. The two guards were unable to call out because of the steel piercing their throats. They both bled their lives out on the floor.
Areenna dropped her hiding ability and took several breaths. She pulled her weapons free, sheathed them, and went to Mikaal’s side. He was pale, as if the blood had drained from him. She pushed against his shoulders but he did not react.
Outside, the ghazis, blinded by a storm of small rocks and dirt from Laira, roared in anger. Charka’s cry cut through the night, as the pounding of his hooves reverberated on the ground. Shifting, she reached under Mikaal’s shoulders and dragged him to the front of the tent and through the flap to the outside.
Bootfalls came from her left and before she could draw her sword, one of the ghazi was on her. Her power flared and she released a stream of energy. He stopped as if he’d hit a wall, blew backwards and knocked into the guard behind him.
She grasped Mikaal’s shoulders again, knowing she had to raise him high enough for Trebor to grab as two more ghazi came forward, the one in the lead holding a short fighting lance.
A loud cry echoed from above and Gaalrie struck the first guard. She did not fly by; instead, she impaled his face with her long talons. The ghazi fell screaming and fighting to free his face. Before he could grasp Gaalrie, the giant treygone released him and leapt at the second guard. This time, she ripped her talons across his eyes, blinding him.
From behind her came the chilling sound of a wolf’s low growl. Trebor vaulted from Charka’s back, sword in hand. The wol
f launched itself at Areenna; Trebor’s sword swing sliced the wolf’s chest open.
Too much time, Areenna thought as two more wolves slunk forward. A dust storm rose around them. Laira ran forward, her arms spread wide, creating the whirlwind around them. Trebor took Mikaal from Areenna and lifted him stomach first over Charka’s back, and turned, his sword at the ready. The dust storm settled when Laira went to Charka to hold him steady. The two wolves crept forward.
Ghazis came rushing around both sides of the tent. The wolves charged. Areenna dropped her sword and slammed her palms together, projecting her unique ability. The powerful waves of energy hit the wolves and lifted them into the air. They flew backwards, slamming into the charging ghazis.
It was not enough to stop the oncoming rush. The ghazis came closer and Trebor stepped in front of Areenna, bracing himself as the first of the oncoming guards came at him swinging a flat blade axe.
Trebor dipped below the blade and rose quickly, his sword slitting the other’s armor as he buried it in the ghazi’s chest.
Another ghazi was on him and caught Trebor’s shoulder with his blade. Trebor dropped his sword, his arm numb. Areenna sidestepped and with a wide swing, sliced through the man’s sword arm. He screamed and fell. Two more charged.
Areenna prepared herself for the attack. Trebor, on one knee, reached for his sword when something whizzed by Areenna’s ear and a knife blossomed in the lead guard’s throat. He fell in his tracks; behind him came more.
“Surround them,” came an order. Areenna turned to see Noslen and his Six-group racing toward her. Behind them ran Akassia.
“Get Trebor,” she ordered Akassia. “Get Trebor and Mikaal out. Go now before the way is blocked.”
Trebor turned to her, but she shook her head. “Get Mikaal to safety. Do it now!” she shouted and turned back to Noslen.