Ogre's Passing
Page 22
"You know her? Who in blazes is she?" Forlern shook his head wonderingly.
Alayian dismounted, holding a flask in her hands. "Drink some of this, but we must leave immediately. I feel the presence of other things nearby, hunting for you."
She handed the flask to Sarion, who in turn offered it to Chertron. "She's a friend, I met her upon the ridge. She lives in Grammore -- although I know little else about her."
Chertron's brow furrowed and he sniffed the container suspiciously. "Indeed you do not. This is no ordinary girl before us." He drank from the flask, his eyes widening. "Ah, this draught is like no other I've tasted before. If I don't leave this cursed fortress, then at least I will end with such a sweet taste upon my lips." He handed it to Forlern, who sipped warily from it.
"Help me with our comrades, and we'll strap them to the horse." Sarion gestured to the two men.
Alayian looked at the fallen warriors, her eyes pained. "Your friends. Alas, I am sorry for their fate. This was the Captain of Trencit you spoke of?"
Sarion nodded.
"A brave man, to risk this place. Hurry, time grows short."
The three of them gently carried the bodies of Charadan and Rundin, tying them fast to the horse. They were quickly done, and headed off in the direction of the entrance. The streets were silent and deserted, and they made their way back to the immense gates at last, standing between the ancient guardians. Sarion looked upon their dreadful forms, keenly feeling the loss of Charadan and the others. Rundin, Areck, and Cerestin, all victims to the awakening evil known only as the Dark Mage.
The enemy of Trencit now had a name, if not a face. He pondered the path which lay before him. He needed to escape the Grammore Lowlands, undoubtedly facing more hazards in finding their way out again. King Gregor must be told the fate of his Champion, the legacy of horror disturbed from slumber within the bordering wilderness, and the sacrifice of the courageous fighters. And then what? What of his own future?
Sarion could not avoid the question. His peaceful life as a farmer was over. The king would be devastated at the loss of his finest leader, and Trencit would be shaken to its foundation. He still could not believe it himself. He'd traveled Grammore in the presence of Trencit's most famous and charismatic warlord, Charadan. And now Charadan was gone. The ramifications would be catastrophic as word spread out across the land, eventually reaching the battlefront, where his very name could lend inspiration to the most downcast of warriors.
General Charadan. Dead.
Sarion wept. For himself, for the warriors and citizens of Trencit, for Edward. Like an unwelcome companion, misfortune had hovered above their quest since the beginning. They'd been beset with obstacles nearly the entire journey. Some deliberate, others by chance. Lesser men would never have escaped with their lives from the original clash with the ogre. They had survived though, eventually prevailing in the face of terrible odds. At least to this point. And with devastating losses to show.
But Sarion was not defeated.
There was everything to fight for, and he would answer the call, giving all if necessary. First he needed to get his remaining companions back to their own country. Hazards surrounded them at every turn, and their numbers were sorely diminished, losing their leader in the end. And what of the strange newcomer?
Chertron tapped him on the shoulder, nodding to Alayian's slender figure. "Aye, she is no average girl, stranded in the middle of Grammore."
Sarion stared at him. "Who is she really then, do you know?"
Chertron nodded again. "The question is what is she."
They both looked up at her, walking after the horse, Forlern taking the lead. The fortress was behind them now, and Alayian had told the warriors she could help them to leave the valley without encountering the Grimhounds. Sarion didn't ask how she could do it -- the look in her eyes was all the convincing he needed.
Chertron leaned close, whispering in Sarion's ear. "I think that the girl is a na-dryad."
Sarion opened his mouth in surprise. "What? How do you know that?"
The warrior pointed towards her. "Subtle things you might notice, the ears, slightly pointed, for one."
Sarion realized this for the first time.
"Mostly from what I recall from stories and such. The powers they possess of concealment and camouflage. A creature of the forest, a legendary species. We're surrounded by legends, it seems. Her intentions remain unclear though. Why has she bothered to help us, as we are stalked by evil at every turn? She seems to have taken a fancy with yourself, but I warn you -- beware."
"What else do you know of na-dryads, if this is indeed true?" Sarion kept his voice low.
"Well, she can't leave Grammore, the lands of her birth. Others of her kind are limited to a certain type of tree or landscape. Her kind is far superior, and able to travel forth in greater distances. They have power, old and secret. I don't trust her."
Sarion was quiet, startled by Chertron's words. More puzzles? Where would it all end? He had no reason to distrust her though. She might have killed him while he slept, since the horses were not bothered by her presence. Alayian. Hs spoke the name upon his lips, enchanted by her beauty and wonder. There was much he needed to know about her.
Sarion's mind swam in confusion. And pain. A flood of emotional turmoil. The fortress was now behind him, lost in the haze. Before him the land was a desolation, swirling in chaos and uncertainty, just like his own thoughts. Was this what the Dark Mage had in mind for his own homeland?
No clear road lay in front of him, and danger surrounded them on every side. Their destination now was Trencit, and from there directly to King Gregor. Charadan was gone, and the land would sorely miss their greatest leader. But Sarion knew he could not wallow in misery. Others relied on him. He looked first upon Forlern, thinking how similar he was to himself, especially as a younger man, fresh in the Western Watch. Eager, excitable, and perhaps confrontational. Yet Forlern was a tough survivor, a deadly fighter, battle-sharpened and afraid of nothing. He had faced the same dangers which had slain his companions -- faced them and surpassed them. And Chertron? Someone to count on under any circumstances. Skilled as a tracker and warrior, resourceful and good-natured. He could place his life within their protection if needed. And he knew with chilling certainty that he would some day, perhaps sooner than he cared to admit.
With these two men at his side, he felt a tremendous sense of pride and valor, not to be easily quenched. No, they would not give up fighting for what they believed in. The loss of Charadan was bitter and devastating, but the general had shown Sarion immense courage and loyalty. What a terrible command for him, leading his own men into a hostile land filled with countless nightmares, knowing full well that some would not be returning. Including himself in the end. And he had suffered greatly, watching as they fell victim to circumstances beyond his ability to save them, and that was what hurt the most. Sarion had also felt it -- and hated it.
Sarion was determined to help the people of Trencit. Not moving forward for vengeance, although he knew there would be a time for him to strike at the Dark Mage and the forces gathered with him, but instead he continued onward driven by the love he felt for his country and its citizens. A hope, to give them a chance to live without the constant threat of war and invasion. He wanted to do his part for Edward, for the lost warriors, for Charadan. Perhaps future generations would know real peace.
Sarion looked into the mist with penetrating eyes, scalding the swirling vapor with his gaze. Head held high, he swore to himself that they were not returning in defeat, but hope. He wiped away the single tear upon his cheek.
There would be other days, other battles.
And they would find him ready.
THE END
This concludes "Ogre's Passing", book one of the Trencit Legacy.Book two, "The Rooting of Evil," will continue with the quest of Sarion and his companions as they confront the growing power of the Dark Mage, and battle against his minions of terror.
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