Mark of Fire (The Endarian Prophecy Book 1)

by Richard Phillips

  Satisfied that she was indeed all right for the present, Arn and Ty moved on to check all the horses. Aside from a scrape across the shoulder of John’s horse, the animals seemed okay. Arn and Ty mounted up once again and began leading the pack train along its previous route.

  In the late afternoon, tall thunderheads raced in from the west. The sun’s rays glinted off their tops, streaming through cracks in the clouds to paint streaks across the sky. Dark curtains of rain fell on the desert to the west, although the sky was still bright blue overhead. Thunder echoed through the canyon as the storm closed in on the riders. Ty led the way higher up along the mountainside, away from the ravines that could quickly fill with raging water.

  “Keep your eye out for a cave!” Ty yelled to make himself heard over the gathering storm.

  Arn looked but saw no sign of shelter on the steep slope. The air had become still and humid. Lightning soon knifed down, darting here and there, weaving the curtain of rain on a monstrous, primordial loom.

  The wind came, softly at first, then in a rush that made the canyon howl. The tops of the pines bent before the assault, swaying back as the gust died out. But another gust followed, this one wet with fat drops of rain. The rain worked its way up the slopes behind the travelers as the clouds blotted out the last vestiges of sunlight. A darkness like night descended.

  A flash of lightning lit the trail ahead, pine trees offering the only shelter in sight. Ty headed toward them. Thunder ripped the air, rain pouring down in torrents that made it hard to breathe.

  The sharp crack of thunder followed a blinding flash directly in front of them. Kim’s horse reared and bolted forward, but the rope tied to the two adjacent horses halted its run. Fifty feet away, the tallest of the pines had split down the middle. A tower of flame shot skyward, hissing like an angry serpent as it battled the rain.

  Ty slipped off the big horse, and Arn mirrored him.

  “We’re going to have to stand here in the open, holding onto the horses and calming them until the storm passes,” Ty said as he grabbed the bridle of John’s horse, talking to the animal in a soothing tone.

  Arn reached over and pulled Kim’s horse to where he stood beside Ty, following the barbarian’s example. Ax ignored all the commotion, taking advantage of the break to chomp on the tall grass that grew on the hillside. The palomino stallion trotted around the cluster of horses a couple of times and then stood still several paces away, gazing out through the falling rain toward the burning tree.

  Arn reached up to place his left hand on Kim’s. The soaked Endarian princess sat straight in the saddle, fortitude in her eyes as she looked down at him.

  As Arn stared up at the princess, he felt the rain run down the back of his neck and through his clothes. The wind had taken on a chill. The night was going to be long.

  As the line of horses crested the ridge and began its descent down the opposite side, Arn saw the bright light of a new dawn paint the nearby valley, revealing pine slopes that gave way to deep grass, wild flowers, and a stream. The palomino stallion tossed its head and snorted, pawing the ground impatiently as the two riders on his back paused to survey the scene. A narrow trail dropped off between rows of cliffs, widening as it led out into the valley.

  “We’ll get off here and lead the horses down,” Ty said. “I want to keep a hand on John’s horse’s bridle until we get out of these cliffs.”

  “Good,” said Arn. “I could use the walk.”

  The two men slid off the stallion. Ty reached up and grabbed the bridle of the first horse in the line, turning down the path as he did. Ahead of him, the stallion moved down the hill, quickly reaching the valley floor below before stopping to chomp on the lush grass. Arn and Ty followed more slowly, ensuring that the other horses passed safely down the steepest part of the trail.

  Reaching the bottom, they began walking at a brisk pace toward the valley. Despite their increased speed, John’s horse was not satisfied, nudging Ty in the back with its muzzle. Suddenly, a merry peal of laughter broke the stillness of the valley. Arn and Ty looked back to see a refreshed Kim no longer fighting the effects of being spellbound.

  “It’s good to see that you’re back with us,” Arn said.

  “We passed out of the spell’s range as we descended into this valley,” Kim said. “You can untie us now.”

  Ty untied his hand and released his hold on Arn’s knife. “She’s right. I don’t feel a thing.”

  Arn sheathed Slaken and moved to cut the ropes that secured Kim to the saddle before lifting her down from the horse’s back. She leaned against him for several seconds as she worked to restore circulation to her limbs. Meanwhile, Ty cut John free.

  As soon as the gag came away from John’s mouth, a stream of foul language poured forth. The outburst quickly subsided as he noticed Kim’s disapproving glare. John plopped off the horse’s back and into the grass, struggling to rise but unable to make his legs respond.

  “You crazy fools have paralyzed me!” he yelled.

  “Settle down,” said Arn. “Your legs are still at rest. Rub them, and the feeling will return.”

  John set to work, vigorously rubbing his legs with both hands. He calmed down as Kim knelt beside him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the princess, both embarrassed and grateful.

  Ty sat down on the grass. “Oh, that feels good. I had forgotten what it was like to relax. Man, I could eat a cow, hide and all.”

  Arn looked down at the barbarian. Blood and dirt matted his long blond hair. Ty was so tired that his eyes stayed closed for a couple of seconds each time he blinked.

  “Kim, I’d like you to take a look at the wound in Ty’s hand. I’m afraid it might be getting infected.”

  A concerned look swept across the Endarian’s face as she crossed over to where Ty sat. “Let me see that hand,” she said, taking it gently in her own.

  She studied the wound carefully for several moments and then directed Ty to accompany her to the stream. Arn followed, as did John, having recovered the use of his legs. Emanating from snowy mountains, the stream was a small one that ran swiftly over the rocks.

  Arn watched the Endarian princess closely. Without resorting to any of her life-shifting magic, she scrubbed the filthy scabs from the puncture wound thoroughly, causing it to bleed freely once again. Then, selecting a thick cushion of soft, green moss, she packed both sides of the hole and bound the wound with a length of buckskin she had taken from her bag.

  Arn turned the horses loose to drink and knelt to do the same. The water was clear and cold, with the wonderful taste of a mountain stream.

  He drank long and deep, pausing to wash his face and clean his wounds. The sharp twinge from the side of his head reminded him that a corner of his ear was gone. He put his hand to the injury, washing away the built-up scab. The cold water revived him, bringing his hunger to a raw edge.

  “John, what have we to eat?”

  John sheepishly stared at Arn. “Kim and I ate the last of the supplies just before you two showed up.”

  “John!” Kim’s voice brought his head around.

  “Oh, all right. There’s some dried meat left in one of the packs. After the way you two have behaved, I wish we’d eaten it all.”

  John walked over to remove a pack from Ax’s back.

  “You should be thanking us,” said Arn. “If we hadn’t tied you down, you would have probably killed yourself like you tried to back at the gorge.”

  John glanced up from rummaging in the pack. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s talking about you going crazy and trying to run your horse off the cliff,” said Ty, who had propped himself up on an elbow by the stream, “pulling Kim and all the other horses along with you. Your memory isn’t very good for someone who wants to complain about the way he’s been treated.”

  Kim rose to her feet. “John, for once Ty is telling the truth.”

  A smug look settled on the barbarian’s face.

 
She raised an eyebrow and continued, “For perhaps the first time since I have known Ty, he has managed to make an accurate statement.”

  Ty shook his head dismissively.

  John began to pace. Suddenly he stopped and clapped his hands together. “Damn. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of a spell. Up until now I figured such stories only came from feeble-minded people with a limited understanding of magic.”

  “You being spellbound doesn’t really disprove that theory,” said Ty.

  John’s response was interrupted by Arn elbowing him away from the pack that contained the food. In short order, he had the dried meat out and passed some around. Ty ate ravenously as Kim continued treating his injured left hand. Arn ate more slowly, ensuring that he chewed the food well before swallowing. A person’s stomach tended to treat its owner unkindly if unchewed food was gulped down after a long period of fasting.

  When he finished, Arn rose to his feet. “I’ll take first watch. John, how about relieving me in three hours?”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” John said. “I’m taking the first watch. I don’t want someone on guard who’s so tired he’d probably fall asleep and miss attackers. You and Ty should rest. Kim will relieve me in a few hours.”

  Arn looked over at John and smiled. “It’s good to see that you’re back with us.”

  As Arn started to remove the saddle from Ax’s back, the words of the imprisoned Endarian replayed themselves in his mind.

  They say that to break the spell, someone would have to escape the city. Since that is exactly what the spell prevents, it does not seem likely to happen.

  “Damn it,” said Arn as he pulled the cinch tight once again.

  “What?” John asked, turning back toward him.

  “I just remembered something one of the prisoners in Lagoth said. I need to ride back and take one last look at the city.”

  “But . . .”

  “But nothing. My knife will keep the spell from affecting me. I’ll be back by morning.”

  Without waiting for comment, Arn mounted and spurred Ax up the hillside back toward the west.

  Darkness swallowed him long before Ax reached the top of the high ridge that yielded the view of the metropolis he and Ty had just fought their way out of. As he crested the ridge, the sight that confronted him took his breath away.

  Large sections of Lagoth were in flames. From this vantage point, he could make out little of what was going on, but from the pattern of fires, he knew what must be happening. The spell had been broken. What must it have felt like for hundreds of thousands of slaves to suddenly experience free will? Most had been raised without ever experiencing freedom. But the new-captures were a different story, with Arn immediately thinking of the imprisoned Endarian he had spoken to. They would have risen up, overwhelming the thin guard force in the caverns beneath the city. Most likely they knew where all the weapons caches were located and had organized groups to storm them.

  Chaos. Whether the bulk of the slaves had rushed out, or most had cowered below ground, Arn could not be sure. But many thousands must have made a run for it. And in that confusion, despite the huge army camped outside the gates, and despite the tremendous numbers that would be killed or recaptured, thousands more would manage to make their escape.

  The scene was both horrible and beautiful to behold. The knowledge that some of the slaves would find their way back to family and friends, where previously they had maintained no hope of such reunions, eased the cost in lives.

  The added knowledge that Kragan, if he still existed, would be seething with anger brought a smile to Arn’s lips.

  22

  Hannington Castle

  YOR 413, Late Summer

  Kragan wailed, the sound echoing through his private chambers with such volume that it brought Tarok charging into the room. With a fierce look and a wave of his hand, Kragan dismissed the eight-foot-tall grun who was his personal servant and bodyguard. He was in no mood for company of any sort.

  After learning that the thousand-vorg search party that Bohdan had sent into the warrens beneath Lagoth had failed to find Blade or his Kanjari accomplice, the wielder had scoured the surrounding hills with dozens of mounted patrols. Nothing. Once again Kragan’s followers had failed to capture or kill the assassin.

  Worse, Blade’s escape had broken the spell that Kragan had placed over Lagoth to protect it from discovery, and in so doing, had generated a slave rebellion that had burned down a quarter of the city. Even though Bohdan had eventually managed to regain control of Lagoth and its slave population, as many as three thousand had escaped, many Endarian. So even if Kragan journeyed to the city to restore the spell, the word of Lagoth’s survival, and thus his own, would spread across the continent.

  Kragan forced himself to take a calming breath. He did not want to be calm. He wanted to burn the statue into slag. Despite this setback, Kragan’s army was almost fully assembled outside of Lagoth. As allies of Kragan, they would have been immune to the spell if it had still been in effect. Now such considerations were irrelevant.

  King Gilbert had sent Earl Coldain and the bulk of the army of Tal to hunt down Rafel. Kragan’s army would thus overwhelm the forces that remained here. His vorgs and men merely awaited the order that would launch them on an unstoppable arc eastward through Tal. Then, having added a host of new conscripts and slaves, the horde would sweep northwest into Endar. And if Coldain failed to find and destroy Rafel and his legion, Kragan would divert his priestly allies, the protectors, and their fanatical followers in the far west to finish the job. It would not do to leave alive a powerful warlord whose past involved a close alliance with the Endarian queen.

  The vision of his twin armies converging upon Endar Pass from east and west finally brought Kragan a wave of satisfaction.

  23

  Borderland Range―Northeast of Lagoth

  YOR 413, Late Summer

  By the time Arn arrived back at the campsite, the sun was rising, illuminating the mountaintops in a peach-colored glow.

  “Glad to see you’re still alive,” said John. “How about a nice cold breakfast of dried and salted meat?”

  Somehow the prospect didn’t seem as appealing as it had just the day before.

  Ty groaned and sat up. “Oh, man. I think I’m going to retire and settle down to fish all day.” He rubbed his face with both hands.

  Over the course of a breakfast that tasted better than it had sounded, Arn relayed what he had seen the past night.

  “At least some of those held must have escaped,” said Kim, hope shining in her face.

  “Most likely,” said Arn. “And at least for now, the spell over the city is broken. That means Kragan’s people will have to put a large number of guards to work handling the rest of the slaves. Maybe that will disrupt preparations for whatever the army outside the city is getting ready to do.”

  “Then we must resume our journey,” said Kim. “I must return to Endar Pass and let my mother know about Lagoth.”

  “I don’t care where we go, so long as it’s away from that hole,” said Ty.

  Arn had to agree.

  Within a few minutes the group was packed up, mounted, and moving into the mountains to the north. At the next camp, an opportunity to replenish their meat supplies presented itself in the form of a grazing buck. John brought it down with a single shot from his bow. The group decided to spend some time in this spot curing the meat into strips that would serve them well in the lean days that lay ahead.

  Their camp sat in a small canyon, sheltered in a shallow cave from which an icy spring bubbled out of the rear wall, forming a stream that cut its shallow path down the hillside to the canyon bottom. The enclosure had the added benefit of being an excellent lookout position that provided a field of vision in three directions.

  They stayed in the canyon for another day, preparing meat and allowing Ty to recover from a fever. Upon leaving the restful place, they turned north, moving along the side of t
he ridges and dropping down into deep canyons. For a week, they made good time.

  Gradually, the terrain began to slope downward until eventually the quartet reached a broad, grassy plain, broken intermittently by tree-lined rivers. Here, vorg scouting parties forced the group to travel more carefully. They avoided the warriors by traveling primarily at night and making camps in dense thickets. Despite the monotony of their diet, they were thankful that they had taken the time to cure the meat.

  On the evening of the eighth day out, John spotted a dust cloud off to the west.

  “What do you make of that, Arn?”

  Arn studied the cloud for several moments. The sun was sinking rapidly, illuminating the dust in a dark shade of pink.

  “That’s an army on the march, for sure. They’ll probably be stopping at night. Still, with vorgs, there’s no telling. We’d best make some time tonight so we don’t run into their scouts tomorrow.”

  “There’s only one army I know of that could kick up that much dust,” said Ty.

  “The scouting parties we’ve been seeing have been ranging out to the east,” said John.

  Kim looked puzzled. “With all the confusion in the city, how could they have begun marching so quickly?”

  “The revolt may have hastened their departure,” Arn said. “Most likely they assigned a contingent to deal with the uprising while the commanders ordered the army to move out.”

  “Heading around the mountains to the north and then east? Why east?” Kim asked.

  “Right toward Tal,” said Arn. He shook his head. “That’s King Gilbert’s problem. He and his pet wielder can deal with it.”

  “You don’t sound too concerned about your former home,” said Ty.

  “Actually, the only two I don’t give a damn about are Gilbert and his wielder. Gilbert has run off or killed most of the old warlords. But this onslaught . . . it’s too bad for the good people of Tal.”