Trencit needed such men -- the world needed such men.
Sarion drifted slowly into slumber, where he became entangled in nightmares, finding himself on a small boat pursued by a horde of savage creatures.
***
Sarion was awakened in the late-night hours by Cerestin, the young fighter's face impassive in the torch light, the small stick in his hand the only permitted flare. A full blaze would be an invitation for any nearby creature to investigate. They certainly didn't need to tempt fate any further. Normally cheerful and light-hearted, Cerestin had become subdued like his comrades during the hardships of the past few days. There was little humor to find in Grammore. It was Sarion's turn to stay near the ledge, and keep a wary eye on the captive Glefin. He watched as a thin membrane moved over the creature's pupils, and realized that it served as protection, since it lacked the eyelids that men possessed.
"You choose to yet remain silent?" Sarion challenged the creature, not expecting any reply. "Unlike your breed, we honor our given word. Freedom for useful knowledge -- a fair exchange. You have nothing to gain by holding out on us. If you think to ensnare us, I will tell you this, Glefin. Do not try it…Whatever scheme you have in mind will be discovered. Don't underestimate Captain Grundel, or myself." He leaned closer to the captive. "I think you know who I am."
He bent down in front of the creature, his eyes unblinking, his face confident. The Glefin returned the gaze, the tongue waving menacingly in the air, then disappearing quickly.
"We bear no love for each other, but survival necessitates strange alliances. Think over my offer. Give us the information we need, and you'll have your freedom."
Sarion straightened, looking around the camp perimeter. Most of the men were sleeping, their breathing steady and comforting to Sarion's ears. Areck and Rundin were posted further off in the woods -- they could have been granite statues beneath the forest boughs, listening and watching the night. Far off in the distance a loud yelping broke out, which Sarion believed to be from several beasts in hunt, and the noises ended after several seconds. Having grown accustomed to the low roaring of the waterfalls, Sarion was alert for sounds from behind, where they had traveled earlier. At least for the night, that would be the area of greatest threat.
He leaned against a hoary tree stump, the rotted bark festered with lichen, and stayed that way until daylight finally broke through the lingering mist.
***
The men gradually stirred from sleep, their limbs weary and aching from days spent without the warmth and softness of home or bed. Sarion missed both as well -- adventuresome treks in the field were never as glamorous in the doing, as opposed to the reading of such heroic tales in print. Grundel stood at the lip of the hill, peering through the mist with his own clouded vision, deep in thought. He turned around as Sarion walked over to him, the face confident and intense. Sarion knew that the decision had been made, and he felt a twinge of excitement, realizing that he would feel strong emotions from the man's decision, no matter the course of action. Forlern guarded the captive, eyeing the creature suspiciously as he fingered his knife.
"We are at a crossroads, Captain Grundel," said Sarion, joining him on the ledge. "By the look in your eyes the choice has been made. Are you going to make me guess for the answer?"
"Am I that good at masking my thoughts?" Grundel smiled at him, appearing more sadly resigned than humorous.
"Indeed you are -- at times."
"Well then, let's go over to the men. All ears should hear my decision."
The pair greeted the fighters who were busy at breaking their light camp. Several wore puzzled looks on their faces, but Rundin and Forlern were expressionless. Tarral was the lone watch as he stood facing the forest behind them.
"It seems that our mission has reached a pivotal point," said Grundel, staring at the attentive warriors. "King Gregor was firm in his orders -- to seek out information on the raids, discover the source if possible. We have been partly successful."
Sarion glanced at the Glefin. The creature was looking straight at him, taking in everything it heard.
"The ogre has disappeared into Grammore, and with it the answers we need. There are signs we might take as unusual from our travels, things which play some role in the unrest facing the borderlands, and now, in this realm, we pass as unwelcome intruders, and have suffered the loss of several worthy comrades in the fulfillment of our duty. I am not blind to our danger though."
He paused, eyes boring into the men, gauging their reaction. Their loyalty was unwavering.
"I have been entrusted with a grave decision. King Gregor has commanded me to return with knowledge of the threat from Grammore -- if indeed it hails from this treacherous land -- and if I go to him now, I will have failed in my mission."
Sarion caught his breath...
"We must continue forward, making a sweep of the Lowlands, hoping to uncover the information that will benefit the kingdom. I have led you into peril. We are at risk every second we spend here. And our path goes even deeper now, with no certainty as to the end of our journey. It is much to ask, but you are the finest caliber of men for such an undertaking. You have all been handpicked because of your talents. The weight of Trencit may very well rest on our shoulders."
"Captain." Sarion stepped forward a pace. "Do you mean to attempt the lake?"
Grundel shook his head briskly. "We'll descend the cliff and skirt the water's edge. I have no desire to confront the beasts that live within the lake. I believe we can make our path somewhere above the waterfall, and move on to flatter lands. It appears passable."
Sarion nodded, and the fighters looked weary, but determined. They would answer the call. About to add something, Sarion snapped his head around in surprise as a low hissing broke the air.
The Glefin was speaking.
***
"Foolishhh..."
The voice was harsh, guttural, the syllables unnatural to the creature's normal tongue.
"You don't realizzze the danger."
Grundel walked towards the Glefin, a look of mild surprise on his face. He stopped in front of its bound form. "So, you've decided to speak at last? Have you considered our offer?"
"Offer...perhapsss. I value my life."
"So do we all," answered Grundel. "Why were you following us?"
Sarion came close, trying to read the truth in the creature's words. They were deceitful and cunning, and he knew better than to let down his guard.
"Found your trail, was curiousss. Trencit warriors in Grammore? Strange..."
"Are there others of your kind nearby? Waiting for you?"
The Glefin spat on the ground. "The lassst one."
"What?" Sarion spoke up. "You are the last of the Glefins?"
The creature nodded, the eyes flashing with anger. "Hunted, sslain."
Sarion considered the answer and he glanced at Grundel, who seemed content to let him take over the questioning, angling his head slightly.
"By who?"
The creature was silent.
"You are unwilling to tell me?"
The Glefin could have been carved from stone as it sat there, granite and immobile.
"Then why speak up now? You lack any credibility with us. Trickery will not work, Glefin."
"Danger," it answered. "Below."
"We can see that, and will take measures to avoid the water beasts," interjected Grundel. "The way is passable, if a bit rough. The cliff levels out somewhat, and we can keep a healthy distance away from the more treacherous areas."
"In the waterfall. A cave."
"There is a cave in the waterfall? Why should that concern us?" Grundel frowned at the creature, a look of impatience crossing his face. "Get to your point, we leave quickly."
The Glefin hissed, narrowing its eyes. "The Jurvech livesss there."
Sarion tensed at the name, although it was unfamiliar to him. He felt a chill crawl along his spine, as the creature appeared disturbed -- and that was reason enough for him to feel
cautious.
"And what exactly is that?" Grundel peered forward, gazing at the lake, as the sky overhead became brighter with the advent of dawn.
"A great beast, livesss in cave."
"Can we bypass the cave without waking it? It didn't bother us up here last night."
"It sleepsss. Wakesss only to feed. Terrible."
"When? During the day, or just at night? What type of beast is this Jurvech?" Sarion pursued the captain's questioning, dismayed by the revelation of something unknown and powerful lurking in the waterfall.
"Day, night. When it getsss hungry. A monster you have never seeeen before. A great one."
"I don't like the sound of this, Captain. Remember our earlier talk?"
Grundel ordered the fighters to prepare to leave, taking Sarion aside. "The larger beasts of Grammore? Yes, I recall your fears of such creatures, and we would do well to avoid them. But we can't trust the Glefin either. Maybe such a monster dwells here, and maybe not. Who can tell?"
"True, but it could prove disastrous to encounter one of the larger predators. The Glefin chose now to speak up -- and that concerns me."
"Let's see if it will reveal anything else." Grundel went back to the captive.
"Are we able to sneak by the monster, passing above the waterfall?"
"Perhapsss. Must be quiet, hope it does not awaken."
"Do you know of a path?"
The Glefin remained unspeaking for several moments, and then nodded.
"You will lead then. If you betray us, your fate will be ours. Give us the knowledge we seek, and we may set you free. If you decide to offer information about the evil in Grammore, I will uphold my gesture."
The captain went back to the men, talking to Chertron about the coming trek. Sarion watched the Glefin's unblinking orbs, wondering what slept in the hidden cave.
***
In single file the warriors crept along the cliff side, the horses led by hand. The sound of the waterfall rumbled unceasingly below them, filling the humid air around them with a cool spray. Sarion welcomed the soothing moisture on his unshaven face, and he wondered what Edward would say to him at his ragged appearance. Soiled clothes, muddied boots, and grimy skin. He grinned to himself, realizing how much he cared for his nephew. But he snapped out of the daydream, chastising himself against complacency.
The lake below teemed with surface creatures, while fishing herons glided overhead in search of prey, some a brilliant blue, and others a dull green. The foliage was dense, but the vegetation was far from toneless. Jungle flowers flourished in the temperate climate, jutting forth from the ground in dazzling colors of every hue imaginable -- bright violet, purple, blazing shades of orange and yellow, everything within the spectrum of man's vision was represented.
At the lead was the Glefin, followed by the hulking form of Chertron, the warrior never taking his eyes from the back of the captive's neck. The slope was strewn with thousands of small rocks at the feet of leaning trees, some of them in danger of succumbing to gravity and tumbling down below where the cliff became ever steeper.
Grundel walked directly behind Sarion, and the others fell into formation after him, with the sturdy Rundin bringing up the rear, many yards after. He purposely dropped back further at times to listen and watch for pursuit, a practice they deemed valuable while traveling in Grammore.
The next hour passed without event as the fighters slowly picked their way steadily downwards, drawing closer to the liquid turbulence issuing forth from the earth. The water exploded from underground sources as it erupted into the lake, cascading over a hundred feet into the depths below. Somewhere nearby lay the cavern, and the lair of the Jurvech -- if the Glefin were to be believed.
The noise grew to a deafening blast, and the warriors found themselves moving immediately above the churning waters. Sarion peered down the slope, glancing back at Grundel for his reaction. The captain shook his head slowly, both men knowing that any misstep there could be disastrous. The greatest moment of peril was at hand, and Sarion felt the tension in his shoulders as he struggled to calm his mount. The horses remained in good temper, resulting from generations of breeding as war-steeds -- rugged and obedient, but Sarion knew that the hostile environment could shatter those instincts in a second. As an additional caution, Grundel ordered all the horses to be muzzled, although the roaring of the falls drowned out all other noises.
The Glefin moved smoothly across the terrain, having no trouble at all -- unlike the encumbered fighters. The creature was at home in Grammore, now the last of its kind. Sarion questioned the notion, but knew it could very well be the truth. The Glefins had always been a scarce race, reproducing infrequently, resulting in their small population. It was a good thing too, he thought. With greater numbers they would have been a real threat to overrun Trencit, aggressive enough to raid at will on the eastern settlements despite the lack of equality in size.
The moisture in the air dampened Sarion's brow, and he stiffened as the Glefin pivoted, Chertron swiftly raising his weapon. The creature hissed at the warrior's movement, staring at Sarion and gesturing directly below them, where a ridge spiked outwards, obscuring what lay below. Sarion knew immediately that the Jurvech's lair was beneath them now, and he shuddered, trying to visualize what the unseen beast looked like. Sarion fervently hoped that he would never see the answer to such a dark thought.
Glancing over one shoulder, Sarion motioned for silence, meeting Grundel's eyes for a moment in unspoken determination. Nodding to Chertron, the signal was given to proceed again, and the men began picking their way carefully forward, all heads on the Glefin. The warriors tred lightly with their tough leather boots, holding their collective breath whenever a chance pebble loosened and slid towards the edge. Some of the horses grew restless, and Sarion knew they were disturbed by the scent of something unfamiliar. Their reaction alone convinced him that the Jurvech was a real creature, and nearby.
The seconds crawled by agonizingly, and the tension continued to mount as the Glefin slowed, at times halting completely and sniffing, a look of unease crossing the reptilian face. The tongue would lap out, vanishing quickly as if probing the very air, tasting and deciding upon the next course of action. Sarion felt the extreme vulnerability of himself and the others, and he searched for any sign of mischief from the captive, or indications of the lurking predator. He wished they had never encountered the Glefin -- the creature was a living reminder of harsh memories which now turned uneasily in his mind. But reflection was not a luxury he could afford, for his own sake and the lives of the warriors.
The company trudged onwards, the footing becoming more treacherous by the moment. Sarion realized that if things became any more difficult, passage would prove to be nearly impossible. He shot a quick glance at the captive, looking for any indication as to what it was thinking. The Glefin was a predator in every sense, relying heavily on other senses beside vision. Snuffling at the air, head shifting to accommodate a change in hearing, narrow eyes forward, missing nothing.
To their left, the lake sprawled outwards, the relentless mist lifting into the gloomy sky overhead and obscuring the sun. The view was much more shrouded from their present vantage point, and Sarion couldn't see any of the water beasts, but he knew they were down there, preying upon any vulnerable creature within their wake. It was a region of extreme hostility, with larger species dominating the greater areas of the lake, fighting for supremacy. Sarion wondered if the Jurvech fed on the water serpents. If so, the thing would be incredibly dangerous.
They reached the broadest part of the ridge and the waterfall was directly below them now, the tumult assaulting the side of the cliff and churning into the unknown depths of the lake. The ground vibrated with the thrashing of the unseen river, and Sarion felt uneasy knowing of the fury that raged beneath their feet, which would one day collapse a great area of the cliff as erosion finally took its toll. Rocks slid sideways towards the edge, loosened by the booted feet of the men and the hooves of their stee
ds. The horses tossed their heads in agitation, and Sarion's greatest fear was that one of them would bolt away, or stumble into a warrior.
As Sarion pondered such grim thoughts, the Glefin stiffened, its head pointing to the ground as if watching something there. Chertron began to raise his hunting knife but the blade never reached above his shoulder as the captive creature turned its head towards him, mouth opened wide. To the surprise of the fighter, it spit something from between its teeth and Sarion felt his spine grow cold as an object struck Chertron in the chest and the man grimaced in pain.
The Glefin leaped forward, the ropes falling to the damp earth in a useless pile. Immediately Sarion sprang in pursuit and Grundel whistled to alert the warriors. Chertron fell to his knees, trying madly to pull a tiny dart from his skin. Sarion knew that the creature had bided its time, concealing a hidden weapon within its mouth and choosing the right moment to act, when the company was off balance. The Glefin was several yards ahead, Sarion swiftly following, when it unexpectedly pivoted, facing him.
"Watch!" The captain shouted a warning, but Sarion was already flattened to the ground. Instead of shooting the dart at Sarion, it spit further into the company, the small weapon cutting through the air and striking Tarral's horse, and the beast reared back in fright, kicking Tarral and sending him tumbling towards the edge. Another dart left the Glefin's mouth, narrowly missing Grundel, and it turned to flee.
It all happened so fast that the rear of the company failed to realize what had just occurred, except for Forlern who was right behind Tarral, and he jumped forward. A glint of steel arced through the air as Forlern whipped out a long knife, throwing it at the retreating Glefin. The weapon sliced into the creature's back, and it howled in rage and pain.
Ogre's Passing Page 10