by Curtis, Greg
But apparently it wasn't to be. In their six days they had spent crossing the plains, they had seen not a single horseman.
“Company.”
Thymis gave the call from the front of the lead wagon while the rest of them were thinking about setting up camp for the evening, and everyone looked up. He was right.
Heading for them across the fields of grass and clover was a wagon. A wayfarer's wagon. A wagon that he knew was bringing supplies for him, and which would then guide his family the rest of the way back to the temple.
They'd been quick. Which he realised could only mean that the Lady was taking his words seriously. That was good. He knew he was right even if he didn't quite know how he could be so sure. And if they were rushing to bring him his supplies so that he could run for the central wastes and Garen Fell, then they were surely sending as many others as they could find as well. Shifters. Soon he would be running with his brothers and sisters.
“They're here for you?”
His mother asked the question even though she knew the answer. She'd been there in his dreams as he'd spoken with the lady. She knew the plan.
“Yes.”
“You don't have to go.”
“Yes I do. This is my battle as much as it's everyone else's.”
He hated saying it. Especially when he could see tears forming in his mother's eyes. But it was the truth. This battle was for all the people. It had to be fought. And in the first instance it had to be fought by the shifters. No one else could cover the ground that needed to be covered quickly enough. No one else could be there before the Dicans, ready to fight. And there just weren't that many shifters to begin with. They needed every one they could find.
“Besides I know the wastes and how to cross them. I'm fast and I can fight and I won't be alone. And in the end all we have to do is to clear a path and hold the enemy until the army arrives. And the white wrath makes a powerful weapon. I'll be all right.”
“See that you are.” His father was no happier than his mother, but he was better able to hold his emotions back.
“I will.”
They waited in silence for a bit as the wayfarers drew nearer, no one really knowing what to say. Except for Adain who didn't really know what was happening and was happily playing with his toys in the back of the wagon. He seemed to be building some sort of castle out of his blocks. It was a surprisingly long wait.
“How in all the hells?”
Dorn was shocked when he saw the wayfarer's wagon finally pulling up to their camp site, Eris and Sena on the seat. It wasn't possible. In the three and a bit weeks since they'd last met in his home, he'd covered surely two hundred leagues on foot to head west to Alador and then another hundred and thirty north east as they travelled to the ancient temple. Even if they'd left with him on horseback they wouldn't have been able to keep up. Not through the forests. In that squeaky wagon it was even more unlikely.
Besides, they were heading for them from the north west in a wagon, when they'd arrived in the old fort on horseback. So somehow they'd actually ridden all the way back to the ancient temple from his home and then gathered a wagon and ridden out to meet them as they made their way to Balen Rale. How had they even known to begin that journey?
And yet he knew he shouldn't be surprised. There was some sort of magic at work here. And they were sun elves. They had magic. Besides, it seemed to be their task in life to bother him.
“Dorn?” His mother was immediately worried by his outburst. Though she surely couldn't imagine that the wayfarers posed them any risk. Their white hair was a badge of peacefulness.
“Not to worry. I'm just surprised to see these two. That's all.”
“Oh?”
“They were at the fort when I left.”
“Your fort?” She stared at him suddenly. “So that's Sena? She's pretty. You didn't tell us that.”
Dorn groaned quietly. Women! What was wrong with them? In the middle of this war his mother was busy matchmaking. But he knew that there was nothing he could say, and still less that he should. So instead of answering her he jumped down and went to greet them.
“Hail.”
“And to you Dorn Clearwater.”
Eris greeted him with a smile while Sena looked away for some reason. Eris looked tired Dorn noticed. As if he'd been driving for a very long time. And maybe he had. How else could they have covered so much distance so quickly in a very slow wagon? But they were in peaceful lands at the moment. He could rest up for the remainder of the day if he needed to.
“You've brought the white wrath?”
“Fifty pounds and all of it wrapped in oiled paper. Also hundreds of steel arrow tips. Some heavy clothing and a thick blanket for the nights. A map, the best we have. And some food and medicine. It will be a very heavy pack.”
Dorn didn't care about the weight. He was a shifter, a lot stronger than most on two legs, and much stronger again on four. What he cared about was the fact that they were doing as he asked. And that if they were bringing him the supplies he needed they would also have done the rest.
“Others are on their way to the heart of the wastes?”
By which he meant other shifters. He would run the journey alone if he had to and depend on his speed and skill in hiding to get him through. But he would prefer to have others with him as he ran.
“Scores, maybe more. The eleven have called for others to join you and the call is being answered. Those who come are being given packs of weapons and supplies, and told what we know of the lands. The dangers that they will face. And they will have a way to run to reach the northern pass. Some have left already and may actually be ahead of you.” Eris jumped down and waved to him to follow.
“Then I should set off.” Which he should. But even as followed the sun elf to the back of their wagon to pick up his supplies he knew he had questions. How did Eris know that others had already left the temple when they had surely been in the wagon for many long days to reach them? Were they in communication with the temple even here? Or were they somehow moving much faster than they should? Could one of the sun elves be a traveller? It would explain a lot. And why was Sena still sitting there on the bench staring off into the distance as if she didn't want to look at him?
The supplies in the wagon were all waiting for him, packed up into tight bundles so they could fit into his pack, and he grabbed a decent armful of them. Eris grabbed another armful and together they marched to the back of his family's wagon. But even as well packed as they were Dorn wasn't certain they would all fit. The pack might bend and stretch a little, but there were limits. Still, he started packing them in. Pushing the little bags of the white wrath into the bottom of the pack and forcing the air out of them as he did so.
Soon he had all of them in the pack at least, and was working on some of the other items even as Eris returned with another armful. And as he worked he had to fend off the attentions of his mother and sister, both of whom were standing there, crying, and telling him he couldn't go. His father was there as well, standing off to one side and looking stoic. But he said nothing. Dorn understood that. He understood it all. And still there was nothing he could do about it. He had to go. So he kept packing.
“You should be careful around the northern Eteris ranges. There's supposed to be trolls there. And Rocs.”
Sena appeared from nowhere to give him advice he already knew. She seemed worried. As worried as his own family. But she had no need to be. She didn't understand just how capable he was becoming as a soldier. How many battles he'd fought and won through. Even he was surprised by that though.
It hadn't been that many months ago that he'd been simply hiding away in his home, safe from the world. Then he had thought it was the only way to survive. Now it seemed his life was becoming one battle after another. One journey after another. And there was danger at every turn. Yet despite his fears he was surviving.
Of course journeying into the very heart of the wastes was taking things to a whole new level of danger.
&nb
sp; “I know that. I can handle them.”
And he could. Knowing that there would be trolls ahead he'd spent many days gathering the right stones as they travelled and crafting volcanic glass arrow heads. Troll skin might be so thick that it would resist most arrows but the incredibly sharp rock glass would still puncture it. And when the time came and they had to face soldiers instead the steel arrow tips they'd brought would puncture armour. As for the rocs it was mainly a question of looking out for the huge shadows they cast as they flew overhead, and then moving quickly. Rocs were dangerous but they were slow to change direction or to rise or fall in the sky. At least so the stories claimed. He'd never seen one so he couldn't actually be certain.
Goblins were more of a worry for him. He couldn't really use his bow against them because they swarmed. Take down ten or a dozen and there would still be hundreds more coming for him. In the end it would be about avoiding them if he could, and choosing his battlefield carefully if he had to fight. There was a verse written about Kir the Great who had single-handedly fought an entire tribe. He had done it by simply picking his field of battle as a narrow bridge where the goblins could only come at him single file. And then with his swords he had sent hundreds plummeting to their deaths on the rocks below. One on one they were easily killed. But the chances of finding a place like that to stand were small.
“Not on your own. You will need company. Do not go in there alone.”
“I won't. But I've been doing well enough on my own thus far, and I've prepared.” He patted his pack which was now filled with the white wrath they'd brought for him as well as the steel tips they'd provided and all the other supplies they'd brought for him. His quiver beside it was almost overflowing with rock glass tipped arrows for the trolls. “Besides, you already know others are making the journey. I'll meet up with them along the way.”
“We wayfarers could help you find the best roads.”
She surprised him with that. It was almost as if she was offering to help him on the journey. Even to go into battle despite her people's natural pacifism. And maybe she was right in some ways. Maybe she could make his travelling faster in places. It seemed that either she or her brother had some sort of gift for travelling. But he doubted she could do much when he left the roads. And in any case it wasn't possible. He sighed, suspecting she wasn't going to like what he had to tell her. Even though she knew it anyway.
“We have a deal Sena. You are here to bring my family to safety in Balen Rale, relieving me of my burden so that I can travel into the heart of the wastes. If you change that deal, if you no longer bring my family to Balen Rale then I am no longer free of my burden and will have to travel all the way to the temple first. Is that what you want?” He knew she didn't. And yet she seemed to take her time to come up with an answer. And then when she failed to find one she just hung her head in failure.
“Good.” He took that as a win. “Get my family to safety. Please.” And that was really all that mattered to him. It was all that should matter to anyone.
“But -.” There was no but. They both knew that. Which was why she had no more words to get out.
“I'll be fine.” And then while she stood there looking as though she wanted to either burst into tears or yell at him, he kissed her. He didn't intend to. He didn't think about it. He just did it. And it was nice. Pushing her back into the wagon a little, bending her just slightly backwards and laying his lips on hers. She didn't resist he noticed. And she tasted very good.
Soon he let her go. He didn't want to, but he had to. Not only would it have been improper, it was embarrassing with his family standing around watching. Especially when he noticed a smile curling up around the corners of his mother's mouth.
“For luck. Now go and help with the fire and bring my family to safety please. And in time I'll return and we'll discuss this some more.”
Sena silently did as he asked, looking a little shocked as she walked away. Perhaps he shouldn't have done it. Maybe it had been too much. And yet he had to admit it felt good to have her finally at a loss for words.
Of course his family were never going to be so quiet, and instantly he was engulfed in more hugs, kisses and tears as he was busy trying to undress and pack his clothes away in the back pack. It made things difficult as he packed, even when he kept telling them he would be all right.
They didn't believe him of course. Even he wasn't sure he believed it himself. He had never gone to war. And none of the battles he had fought would be anything like what he feared was coming. And even that would only be after he had crossed a hundred leagues of the most dangerous lands in the world and faced any number of deadly creatures.
Still, somehow he managed it and shifted into his beast, and as the afternoon sun slowly sank into the distant hills, he began his journey east to the pass. At least there was one good thing to come out of this entire mess. He knew that whatever lay ahead, no matter how tough it was, it would be the end. Win or lose, live or die he would not have to fight another war. The Dicans would be putting all their strength into this battle. All they had left. If they lost they would not recover. Not before the lake was refilled. And if they won he would likely be dead.
Then again, maybe there was one other good thing to come out of it. He had kissed Sena. And she seemed to like it.
Chapter Forty.
Dorn caught up with some of the other shifters in the foot hills of the Eteris ranges just before the pass, and he let out a small roar to attract their attention as he crossed the loose shale and trotted towards them.
They were shifters like him. He knew that immediately. It wasn't just that they were heading in the same direction, towards the ranges and the central wastes beyond. Nor even that running bears, wolves and tigers didn't normally travel together. The packs on their backs were also a solid clue that they were no simple beasts. They obviously knew the same of him as they stopped and waited for him to join them. The moment he arrived however, they set off again, heading for the ranges.
“Dappled panther – you must be Dorn. The one who started this mess.” The wolf spoke to him, catching Dorn by surprise. He was speaking to him while in wolf form. That was something Dorn couldn't do. He could roar as a man, though not as well as he could as a panther, but he couldn't speak as a beast. So instead he let out a small roar hoping they would understand.
“And not trained yet either.” The wolf sounded disappointed. “Never mind, all hands to the deck as the Enderlese say.”
“I'm Garren, the bear is Sara and the tiger Madras. And up above is Nelalas.”
Dorn looked up to see a huge golden tailed eagle soaring above them and was impressed. He had long known that some shifters had flying creatures as their shapes but had never seen one. It had to be difficult mastering the techniques of flying. He was also trying to work out how Sara, which sounded like a woman's name to him, could be such a large running bear. She had to weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds, and he simply didn't know any women that large.
And then there was the training the man had mentioned. Shifters could be trained? Even though Petran had said as much it still seemed strange to him. The gift was what it was. You shifted, and over time as you grew more familiar with you alternate forms you learned to use them. Sometimes you could even blur the lines a little between the shapes. To roar as a man and apparently to talk as a beast. He wondered what else he could learn to do.
But probably this wasn't the place to ask such things.
It was time to carry on into the ranges, and then beyond them, into the heart of the wastes themselves. So he trotted with them as they continued towards the distant peaks wondering just what else he would discover and how many more were coming from the ancient temple. The fact that there were any at all meant that his theory had been accepted, no matter how crazy it sounded. But then when he'd already met with Eris and Sena and been given the supplies he'd asked for he'd fairly much known that. They wouldn't have been sent if the Lady had thought he was crazed.
> As they trotted towards their destination he realised one thing more. They were speaking to him. Apparently his being shunned had ended, just as Petran had said. Or perhaps it was because they were going into battle and soldiers needed to talk on the battlefield. Or maybe because the Lady Sylfene had relented in her punishment, after blaming him for his wrongful judgement of course. Then again maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was still speaking to him every night in his sleep. Continuing his lessons no matter how much he wished she'd stop.
He wondered what else she might have relented on. Was he still barred from the temple? Sena had said no – as long as he apologised. Not that he had any intention of apologising. And if he didn't apologise and remained barred, when his family finally arrived there could he visit them? Perhaps stay with them for a bit? Maybe even go through the training Petran had mentioned? That was as long as it wasn't any more history lessons.
It was something to think about. Assuming he survived.
Chapter Forty One.
The goblin stood on the ledge looking out over the mountains almost as if he were surveying them. And maybe he was in a way, looking for both food and danger. But he didn't spot either. Not when Dorn and the others stood completely still and waited for him to leave. Like most predators goblins spotted movement before anything else. The movement that told them their prey was near. As long as they stood still they were safe.
Of course there was also a small chasm between them which helped. To reach them the goblin would have had to make his way all the way around the mountain pass trail, a good six or seven hundred yards, or else try to leap a hundred yards with a thousand yard fall onto rocks below him if he failed. They were actually relatively safe. But since the track passed right in front of the cave mouth, they wouldn't be if they tried to creep past it.
He was an ugly creature. At least as hideous in life as he was in Dorn's imagination. He looked like a hairless ape standing perhaps only two thirds the height of a man, but with huge fangs in a snout like face and with claws that could crunch rock. In form he was all wrong too; his legs were too short and his arms too long giving him an ungainly walk, though the reach of those arms made him deadly at close range. Still, being ugly wasn't such a terrible thing and it wasn't what frightened Dorn about goblins. One on one he or any of them could defeat the creature. It was that behind him in the mountain den there were hundreds more. One noise, one shout from the creature and they would come swarming out. Goblins attacked in hordes and then bite by bite tore their prey apart.