“What was the tune?” Lyra quizzed in a slightly calmer tone.
“It is an old sailor ditty about a wench who gets talked into bathing naked in the fountain in the Town Square for her boyfriend, only to find that her boyfriend has invited the whole tavern to watch,” explained Antello. “I just couldn’t hold it in.”
“I’ve a good mind to throw both of you scoundrels into that swamp water and watch you get your leeches off,” laughed Lyra as she saw the humor in her predicament. “In any event, I want to get out of this swamp now, but I suggest we find a different tree for Syman to climb.”
Lyra felt better after laughing, but she really wanted to bathe in some clean water. They mounted their horses and Syman headed for the next large tree. Syman scampered up the snakeless tree and peered in each direction. In minutes he was back down and astride his horse.
“I think I see an end to it,” he exclaimed. “A little farther south the land rises somewhat. It must be drier there.”
Syman led the way and within an hour the party had left the swamp for a gradually rising slope of dry grass. They found a copse of sevemor trees with a stream running through it, which probably fed the swamp. After the horses were secured, each of them headed for the stream to rinse the muck and swamp water off of their bodies and their clothes. Lyra offered to dry their clothes with her magic and they grabbed a bite to eat before creeping under their blankets.
The sun was already up when Lyra awoke and she shook Syman and Antello awake. Antello lead the horses to the stream, while Syman climbed a tree to check out the landscape. Lyra laid out breakfast for everyone and had started to eat when Syman dropped out of the tree. Antello returned with the horses almost at the same time and they both tore into their food hungrily.
“We were fortunate getting through the swamp,” informed Syman between bites. “It is pretty vast and we ended up cutting across a narrow portion of it.”
Nobody felt a need to reply and Syman continued, “I think we are being followed. It is hard to tell, but I saw something that looked like a group of riders making their way through the watula field. We slept later than I would have liked. If they started tracking us at dawn, it is possible that they are on our trail.”
“How many?” asked Lyra.
“Hard to tell,” Syman answered. “To be seen at this distance though, it must be a large party.”
“They will find it hard to track us trough the swamp,” Antello stated. “They can’t see tracks that are under water.”
“Not as hard as you think,” Syman frowned. “They don’t have to see hoof prints to track us. Just the trampled grass will be enough to give our course away. In fact, they will make better time through the swamp than we did because they will not have to zigzag as much.”
“Well our horses are well rested as are we,” Lyra mentioned. “I suggest we ride hard for a while and increase the distance between us.”
“Agreed,” confirmed Syman. “We should head south for a ways. The land is dry and becomes forested in a little while. There is more of the swamp to our east. We will also be gaining elevation and maybe we can get a better look at them this afternoon. Hopefully, we will find out that they are not the invaders.”
“I had hoped that they would not follow us in the Sakova,” Antello said.
“I think they want me bad enough to go anywhere,” sighed Lyra. “Maybe they will all drown in the swamp.”
The trio mounted and Syman led the way south. As he predicted, the land sloped continuously upward and within an hour they gained the protection of the forest.
The forest was comprised mostly of age-old fargi trees, tall and thick. The forest floor was dark and foreboding, the sun unable to penetrate the foliage of the massive trees. The forest had a musty smell about it and the bushes below had broad green leaves, almost obscuring the ground completely. What ground could be seen, was covered with decaying leaves from the fargi trees. Small animals skittered away from their path as they traveled.
Lyra felt a tingling sensation along the back of her neck, similar to the feeling she got whenever someone was watching her. She scanned the forest but saw nothing other than trees and bushes and pushed the feeling away.
They rode until high sun when Syman halted at the edge of a precipice. A river cut through the forest and had eroded a canyon that was clearly too wide to jump. Syman dismounted and walked to the edge. Standing right on the edge, he peered east and west before turning to face his friends.
“I think we are in trouble,” Syman announced. “I don’t see any way down into the canyon and it looks like it runs for leagues in both directions. We dare not turn back in case those are invaders following us and every moment we waste trying to find a way across gets them closer to us.”
“Maybe we can fell a couple of those large trees and make a bridge,” Antello suggested.
“Fargi trees are very dense hardwood,” informed Lyra. “We will never down one of them. How much time do you think we have Syman?”
“They will have moved through the swamp much quicker than we did,” mused Syman. “Fours hours at the most I guess. They can move quickly without fear that three of us will lay an ambush for them. Maybe as little as two hours if they have a good tracker.”
Chapter 7
Ancient Forest
Syman led the way eastward along the northern rim of the canyon, searching for a path down, which would allow them to reach the other side before the invaders had a chance to catch up to them. They had not traveled more than a league when he stopped where a fallen fargi tree had bridged the chasm. The ancient hardwood giant must have served as a bridge in the past because Syman could see where someone had mounded dirt at each end to allow access to the log. The fargi tree was huge and the diameter of the fallen log was several times his height, still, he did not look pleased with the prospect of riding a horse across it.
“What are you waiting for?” called Antello. “Let’s get across before they catch up.”
Syman ignored his friend’s impatience, dismounted and walked around the nearest end of the fallen tree. The log appeared to be well anchored and it certainly was sturdy. Perhaps he was being too cautious, Syman mused, but there were no visible tracks of anyone using it and the dirt mound should show some recent use.
“Look at the other end,” called Lyra. “It doesn’t look like there is much ground underneath it.”
Syman walked to the cliff and peered over the chasm at the far end of the tree bridge. There was a dirt mound similar to the one at the nearest end, but the canyon rim underneath it had eroded badly.
“It doesn’t look like much is holding the other end,” he stated. “We should keep going until we find a path through the canyon.”
“We could be looking for a path for leagues,” cried Antello. “This is too good to pass up. I am sure that it will hold us. Fargi trees last forever and I will even go first.”
“As much as I would wish to be free of your chatter,” frowned Syman, “I do not wish to be free of you. No matter how sturdy the tree is, unless there is solid ground underneath it, we will fall to our deaths.”
“That is a thought,” smiled Lyra. “If we could make it across and somehow disable it so the raiders could not follow us, we would gain a lot of time.”
Syman turned and with a scowl opened his mouth to berate Lyra for encouraging Antello, but stopped before the rebuke was uttered. “Are you really willing to risk your life on this tree?” Syman inquired. “Even if it held the weight, I cannot imagine riding a skittish horse over it.”
“Nor I,” Lyra grinned. “We have plenty of rope. Let’s tie a rope around Antello and let him cross. He can tie off the rope on the other side and we can hang on to it when we cross. And we will not ride the horses. I will walk each of them across after I have cast a calming spell on them. They will not be nervous and will walk calmly.”
“Then we can sabotage the other end so that the raiders cannot follow us,” beamed Antello. “It is perfect.”
“I cannot believe you two,” Syman said while shaking his head. “The plan is fine except for the first part. A rope around Antello will do nothing for him, except allow us to haul his body up after he dies. He would just swing into the rock cliff if he fell.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Antello. “First, I am not going to fall. The log is huge and I could run across it without any fear of falling off. Second, the log is not going to just instantly fall. If it does fall, I will feel it starting to go and I can run back before it tumbles. You can keep an eye on the other side and let me know if you see it starting to move.”
Syman stood shaking his head, knowing that his friend was going to cross no matter what he said. Antello thought he was invincible and all Syman could do was try his best to protect him.
Antello was already preparing the rope when Lyra came up beside Syman. “I think it will be alright,” she said. “I will go first if that matters to you. I would not ask Antello to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.”
“No,” Syman agreed, “Antello is the best one for the job. He is quick and sure-footed. I just hope nothing happens to him.”
Lyra nodded as she turned to the task of calming the horses. It only took moments to calm the horses, but when Lyra turned back to the log, Antello was already roped and ready to cross the bridge.
“Be careful,” Syman cautioned his friend.
Antello smiled in return and started walking along the log, over the perilous drop of the canyon. Antello did not look down but kept his eyes focused on the other end. Despite his comments about running across, Antello walked slowly and deliberately, as if testing the sturdiness of the bridge with each step. Time seemed to slow for the trio as Antello, dwarfed by the hugeness of the fargi log, slowly made his way to the center of the bridge. Suddenly, a cascade of dirt and small stones tumbled into the canyon from the far end. Antello immediately halted with one foot still raised. Syman shouted a curse and Lyra inhaled deeply and held her breath.
No one moved until the last of the stones hit the bottom of the canyon. Lyra exhaled as Antello placed his foot down and continued walking, more cautiously than before. Once again, the dirt cascaded into the ravine and Antello froze waiting for the stones to drop. Sweat beaded upon Antello’s brow and for a moment he began to doubt the wisdom of crossing the bridge. Three fourths of the way across, Antello fought the urge to dash the distance and dive to the opposite rim. Antello’s legs began shaking as fear coursed through him and he fought to control his emotions. Stopping completely, he bent down and grasped his legs with his hands. He ignored Syman’s shouted questions about what was wrong and concentrated on calming himself. He flexed his arm muscles and then his leg muscles to force the shaking limbs to know their master. Slowly, his limbs responded and submitted to his will. Steady once again, Antello straightened and stepped forward. He began whistling a favorite tune and imagined that he walking the ledge outside the Academy which he had used many times to avoid Master Caulder’s attention when he sneaked off to play. His distraction worked well and Antello found himself over the southern rim of the canyon. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he turned and bowed to his friends on the other side.
Antello quickly secured his end of the rope around a standing fargi tree and signaled the others that it was tied. Lyra took the reins of one of the horses and started to cross. Antello had not meant to indicate that it was safe to cross and he scampered to the rim of the canyon to examine the footing of the tree bridge. He cursed silently as he caused stones and dirt to tumble in his haste, but Lyra appeared not to notice. With a casual attitude, she led the horse across, talking to it as she proceeded. Neither the horse nor Lyra seemed to recognize the danger of their crossing and Antello wondered if Lyra had cast the calming spell on herself. Lyra arrived quickly and Antello saw Syman leading another horse across as soon as Lyra got off the bridge.
When Syman arrived he handed the reins to Lyra. “You two see what chances we have of sabotaging the bridge,” he ordered. “I will get the other horse.”
Syman returned across the bridge and Antello bent to examine the log. “It is a lot sturdier than I thought,” he murmured to Lyra.
Lyra joined him and examined how the log sat on the rim. “Perhaps we will not be able to drop it into the canyon,” she agreed.
“We have to,” frowned Antello. “The raiders can move quicker than we can. All they have to do is follow our trail and we have to stop to figure out which way to run. This is our chance to stop them.”
“What does it look like?” Syman asked as he led the last horse off the bridge. “Are we going to be able to move it?”
“I may be able to burn it,” offered Lyra, “but fargi trees do not burn easily. They have been noted for surviving forest fires with only their bark blackened. If I knew how to cast a fireball we might stand a chance of penetrating the thick bark, but my fire starting spell is no stronger than a torch light.”
“Maybe we should use our time wisely and get moving,” suggested Syman. “If we can’t stop them from following us across, then we cannot afford to stay here talking about it.”
“But this is our chance to buy time,” argued Antello before his mouth stopped moving and gaped open.
Syman followed Antello’s gaze and saw the invaders charging along the opposite side of the canyon. “Get your bows quickly,” he shouted.
Syman ran and swiftly untied the horses and led them farther into the woods. There was a chance that the invaders had not noticed them and had instead focused on following the trail. Shouts from across the ravine dissipated his hopes and he tied the horses to a tree.
“Don’t shoot until they are half way across,” Lyra instructed. “I will see if I can get the log burning. Even if it doesn’t burn, it may make them think twice about crossing.”
“We can hold them off here until they are all dead,” Antello grinned. “This is even better than shoving the bridge into the ravine.”
Syman shook his head as he took up position behind a tree. Lyra scrambled to the end of the log and Syman saw tiny flames shoot from her fingertips into the wood. Doing a quick head count of the opposition, Syman frowned at the results. There were at least forty of the invaders visible and the line stretched into the forest.
Tiny wisps of smoke rose from the log where Lyra worked. The invaders sat astride their horses and looked over at the trio as if deciding on the best plan of attack. Nobody attempted to cross the bridge.
“What are they waiting for?” exclaimed Antello from behind his tree. “Maybe we should start shooting at them now.”
“These are not untrained students playing a game,” explained Syman. “They know we are waiting to cut them down and they have no real reason to cross the bridge.”
“What do you mean?” quizzed Antello. “If they don’t cross the bridge, they cannot get to us.”
“They do not need to get to us if we are not going anywhere,” Syman sighed. “There are plenty of them. I bet that they will send some onward to find another way across while some of them keep us occupied here. Let me know if you see any of them leaving. That will be the time for us to run if Lyra has not managed to start it burning by then.”
The invaders continued to sit and wait. A small group of them gathered around one man, clearly their leader, and talked as casually as if they were sitting around a campfire. One of them must have spotted the tiny wisps of smoke Lyra was making because he shouted something and pointed. The head invader came to life with shouts and pointing and movement rippled through the invaders as if someone had kicked an anthill. Six invaders dismounted and grabbed bows while half of the dark clad riders galloped eastward along the northern rim of the canyon, obviously searching for another way across.
“Darn!” shouted Syman. “We are not going to make it this time. Antello, I want you to get Lyra out of here. I will stop these men from coming across, but you have got to get her moving quickly.”
“Maybe she will get the fire started,” objected Antello. “Besi
des, if we both shoot at them, she will be safe.”
“Move!” demanded Syman as the first barrage of the invaders’ arrows began raining down upon the end of the bridge.
Lyra looked around nervously as she heard the thuds of the arrows landing. She was shielded from a direct hit by the massive log, but she was also stranded without any way to move and the fire she was trying to start was just not working. Her spell could not generate enough heat to penetrate the fargi tree and get the wood burning. She looked towards Syman and Antello and shook her head. Syman held up his bow and indicated for her to make a run for it when he started shooting and she nodded.
Syman was not the best archery student in Master Caulder’s class, but he was a good shot and had a strong pull. He had his arrows laid out before him for quick access before he started shooting. He did not aim for anyone in particular but proceeded to fling arrows quickly into the ranks of the enemy bowmen. All he needed to do right now was give Lyra a chance to run into the woods so she could get free with Antello.
Antello had two horses ready and stood on the reins while he joined Syman’s attack with arrows of his own. The combined attack scattered the enemy archers long enough for Lyra to dash into the trees.
“Thanks,” Lyra panted. “I’m afraid the fire idea will not work.”
“I gathered as much,” Syman said. “Go with Antello quickly. Move fast because another group of invaders is looking for a way across the canyon.”
Lyra looked at Antello and the reins for the two horses he now held. Slowly, realization of what Syman was doing registered. “No,” she declared. “I am not leaving you to die in my place. We shall all leave together.”
“There is no time for this,” growled Syman. “I can hold these men here while you two get a head start, but I can do nothing about the other group. Any more delay and you will be throwing away not only your own life, but Antello’s as well. When I have held them here for a while to give you a head start, I will run and catch up to you. It is not me they are after and given a choice, they will go after you.”
Star of Sakova Page 9