Star of Sakova

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Lyra knew they would go after everyone. They surely had enough men to spare. But as she started to argue, Antello grabbed her and shoved the reins of her horse into her hand.

  “There are times when we must trust each other,” Antello stated. “This is one of them. Get on your horse and let’s ride. The sooner we leave the sooner Syman can leave and if he doesn’t join us by nightfall, I will beat the sense out of him when he does catch up to us.”

  Lyra laid her hand softly on Syman’s shoulder, but he ignored her as he reached for another arrow. Lyra turned with tears in her eyes and mounted her horse. Antello was already mounted and together they turned and galloped into the forest.

  There was a narrow trail leading away from the log bridge and Antello led the way along it as they galloped deeper into the dark forest. The shouts of the invaders and the song of Syman’s bowstring faded quickly into the distance and were replaced by the sound of the relentless pounding of their horses’ hooves as they charged away from the ravine. Tears poured down Lyra’s cheeks and her eyes swelled closed. She wiped them constantly and was still barely able to follow Antello.

  Lyra’s mind began to drift as she wished that she would wake up from this horrendous nightmare. Her mother. Her father. Master Caulder. All of her friends and fellow students. Now Syman. Why? When would it all stop? Why was this happening to her?

  Her thoughts reeled and mental pictures of the Academy, both before the attack and after, flooded through her mind. She saw her father lecturing and smiled at him. She saw Rhodella standing with her hands on her hips, scolding Lyra about playing with swords, and smiled. She saw Syman lying on the grass behind the Academy with his hands up begging for mercy from her, and smiled.

  “Lyra!” screamed Antello. “Get yourself together. We have to keep riding.”

  Lyra opened her swollen eyes and looked about. Her horse was standing peacefully, well off the trail, and Antello was next to her. She must have let the horse go where it wanted to. Antello was frantic and Lyra silently scolded herself.

  “I’m sorry,” Lyra apologized, straightening her posture and regaining control of her horse. “I will pay attention. Lead on.”

  Antello looked at her sadly and nodded. Without another word, he turned and headed towards the trail. Lyra followed and wiped her last tears from her eyes. She did have to maintain control of herself if she was to survive and regain her father’s freedom. Rhodella had not promised her an easy time of it, but she had instructed Lyra about what to do, and Lyra realized that she must shove aside her grief if she was to succeed.

  Antello picked up the pace again as soon as he was sure that Lyra was going to follow him and soon they were charging through the forest once again. Antello kept a fast pace, slowing periodically in an attempt to let the horses regain their strength. The forest grew darker and Lyra wondered if the sun was going down or they were just getting deeper into the darkness known as the Sakova. So far they had not seen any of the wild animals or savage humans that the tales spoke of, but the Sakova was huge and she was sure that they would see both before their trip was done.

  Suddenly, Antello halted and held up his hand for silence. Lyra was practically beside him when she stopped and she looked at him curiously. Antello seemed to be peering at one particular spot and Lyra followed the direction of his gaze. The woods were fairly dense here with a scattering of both the ancient fargi and the more common sevemor. The land rose gently in the direction Antello was looking and the side of the hill was covered with a low brush, which Lyra could not identify. The leaves were large and bright green and the bushes appeared to be connected by vines as if they lived in communities or groupings.

  “I thought I saw someone or something move,” Antello whispered. “Maybe we have just been riding too hard.”

  Lyra cocked her head and suddenly she realized that she was experiencing complete silence. There was not a sound in the forest. No crickets, no birds, no lizards scurrying under the brush, nothing.

  “I think the sun is setting,” Antello added. “Maybe it is time to find a hiding spot for the night. The horses have had enough for the day anyway.”

  Lyra said nothing as they started moving again, slowly this time. The trail had ended a long time ago and Antello just picked his way through the trees and bushes. She wondered if Antello even knew what direction they were traveling. The trees were so tall that you could only see the sun at the height of the day and she figured the stars would not be much better. The forest looked the same in every direction. Sometimes there would be small hills or little depressions in the level of the ground, but that information meant little to someone who had never traveled here before. She could only wish that they were not hopelessly lost.

  Antello suddenly made a right turn and she followed him, not asking what he was up to. He rode for a short distance and over a small hill and then dismounted.

  “We will sleep here for the night,” he announced. “It will be hard enough for them to track in this dark forest in the daytime. It will be impossible for them during the night. Just in case, I turned off the track we were heading and I will go back on foot to make sure that there is no sign of us turning off in this direction. Even if they continue tracking through the night, they will miss us.”

  Lyra just nodded as she dismounted and took the packs off the horses. Antello disappeared over the hill as she fed the horses the last of the grain they had brought with them. She looked around for a source of water and the forest looked the same in every direction. Shaking her head, she waited until the horses had finished the grain and then gave their drinking water to the horses. Their own food supplies were also diminished and she wondered if they would end up starving to death after all they had been through.

  Lyra spread two blankets out for them to sleep on and laid out some bread and dried meat for dinner. It was the last of the bread, although they had some dried meat and cheese left. They were supposed to get supplies as they traveled through cities, but that plan had expired at Gatong when they found out the Imperial Guard was searching for her.

  Antello returned and sat on his blanket, eating the food Lyra had left there for him. “He will get away,” assured Antello. “You wait and see. I am doomed to have him at my side for the rest of my life. It is preordained, you see. He will get away.”

  Lyra did not even nod. She lay down and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

  Lyra was not sure how long she slept and it took a moment for her to realize what had woken her. She sat up and looked over at Antello’s blanket and found him gone. The sounds pounded into her head, louder with every step and her eyes frantically searched the dark for Antello, but he was not to be seen. She knew what the sound was and what it meant and she felt a shiver shoot through her body. The invaders had found them in the dark.

  She sat for a brief moment trying to reorient herself in the dark. Finally, she located the horses and from that piece of information, knew the direction of the track they had made through the forest. She grabbed her sword and crouched by her blanket, facing the direction of the small hill they had rode over, and waited for the invaders to appear.

  Unmoving and silent, she listened to the sounds of the horses. Eventually, it dawned on her that the invaders were not coming closer. As Antello had expected, they continued along the track, not noticing where Antello and her had turned off. She crouched in silence until the sounds of the horses faded in the distance and then collapsed on her blanket with a sigh. Moments later Antello appeared out of the black night.

  “I counted twenty of them,” Antello whispered. “Not sure which group it was, the ones at the bridge or the ones that went in search of another path across the canyon. We need to arise early before they backtrack and find where we left the track.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Lyra asked.

  “I knew they would go on by,” Antello grinned.

  “More likely you knew that if they didn’t go by, it wouldn’t matter if I was awake or not,”
Lyra countered as she curled up in her blanket and went back to sleep.

  Antello stared at her for a moment and shook his head. This was not the fun-loving Lyra that he knew. He couldn’t blame her for her attitude, but still he wished for the old Lyra back. Antello lay back and drifted off to sleep moments later.

  Hours later, Lyra opened her eyes and stared up at the giant trees stretching up above her. The sky was light, but not bright. She guessed it was probably early morning and she slowly sat up listening for sounds of the invaders. As she sat up, her mother’s ring rolled down her chest and onto the blanket. She reached for the chain around her neck, which the ring was supposed to be strung on, and found it missing. She reached out and snared the ring and pivoted onto her knees, searching the blanket for the chain. She searched the entire blanket and the ground around it and could not find the chain. She noticed that her sword was not where she left it, but was farther away from the blanket. Anger built inside her when she realized that Antello had been messing with her belongings. She rose, grabbing her sword as she did, and walked over to where Antello lay sleeping. With the sheath still on the sword, she placed the tip at Antello’s throat. Antello came awake instantly with a look of horror on his face. The look faded to puzzlement as he gazed up at Lyra.

  “I do not like people going through my belongings while I sleep,” she growled. “Where is my chain?”

  Antello pushed aside her sword and sat up. “What are you talking about?” he hissed. “Why would I go through your belongings? What chain?”

  Lyra frowned down at Antello for a moment and then whirled and ran to where she had left the packs. Swiftly she opened each pack and looked inside.

  “Someone has been here while we slept,” she declared. “They have gone through everything. I don’t see anything missing except my chain though.”

  Antello jumped to his feet. “My pin is missing,” he howled. “Master Caulder gave it to me for winning a competition. They took it right off my sleeping body. What is going on?”

  Lyra stood staring off into the woods. “I don’t get it,” she muttered. “Two small insignificant items taken and nothing else. No weapons. No food. No tools. Not even the horses. Do you think it was Syman and he was trying to tell us he is alive?”

  Antello shook his head. “More likely his ghost telling us that he still cares and watches over us,” sighed Antello. “If he were alive he would have woken us. It cannot be the invaders, or they would have killed us or taken us. I cannot believe that anyone could waltz in here and take something off me without me waking up. It had to be either a spirit or some crazy animal that likes shiny things.”

  “Yes,” agreed Lyra as she shoved her mother’s ring on her finger and felt her throat for the chain one more time. “Whatever it was, we had better be moving before the invaders start backtracking and find us standing here talking.”

  Antello and Lyra gathered up their belongings and loaded the horses for travel. Within moments they were mounted and heading as close to south as Antello was capable of determining.

  Chapter 8

  Spirit of the Woods

  Antello led at a slow but steady pace through the ancient fargi forest. Clearly the sun had risen, but the forest remained a patchwork or grays and blacks as the sunlight failed to penetrate the canopy of forest giants. The woods were uncommonly quiet, unlike the forest near the Academy, which always filled Lyra with delight. Lyra used to liken the forest sounds to a symphony of nature with each creature having their own instrument to play. She longed to hear the shrill call of the bluetail or the rustlings of the ground squirrels at play. Looking around at the dark, silent forest sent a chill through Lyra and she wondered if anything at all lived within its boundaries. The wind failed to penetrate the grove of huge wooden monsters and even the sound of the horses’ hooves seemed to be swallowed up within a short distance. Lyra’s attempt at humming a light tune was met with a scowl from Antello as he turned and signaled for silence. Lyra pouted as she grudgingly lapsed back into silence and followed Antello along the nonexistent trail.

  Time was abstract for Lyra as they plodded along and her mind began to drift to happier times, so she was slightly startled when Antello halted and pointed towards the trees ahead. Lyra’s eyes followed the direction of his finger and saw the horse, a single horse grazing on the sparse ground vegetation. The horse had no blanket or saddle, only short reins adorned it. Antello indicated for Lyra to wait and he rode quietly towards the solitary animal. Lyra watched as he rode up alongside the horse and lifted the short reins, looking anxiously about him as he did so. Satisfied that it was not a trap, Antello signaled for Lyra to join him and she rode forward.

  “It is not Syman’s horse,” Antello informed her softly, “and the reins have been cut. Someone freed this animal from where it was tied.”

  “Do you think it belongs to the invaders?” Lyra asked, grateful for the sound of her own voice. “And if it is, what does it mean?”

  Antello stroked his hairless chin as he pondered her question. “I can’t imagine who else it could belong to,” he answered, “but we can’t be sure. They are the only people we have seen since entering the forest, but it makes no sense. Perhaps there is some infighting among them. I just don’t know.”

  “Well,” inquired Lyra, “what do we do with it?”

  “Leave it I guess,” answered Antello distractedly, dropping the short reins. “There is another possibility that keeps gnawing at me. What if there are spirits inhabiting these woods? Someone or something visited our campsite last night and stole some really peculiar items. What if the spirits visited the invaders’ campsite as well?”

  “I am sure the invaders would have guards standing watch,” Lyra stated. “Anything that got into their camp would have to be a spirit.”

  “That is what is bothering me,” confessed Antello. “I can face fighting men to get you to Alamar safely, but I do not know how to fight a spirit. I wonder if my idea of cutting through the Sakova was such a smart idea after all. I didn’t think the invaders would follow us, and I was wrong. I thought the stories of strange things in the Sakova were fairy tales and it looks like I was wrong again. My foolhardy adventure has already cost us Syman and I am afraid I will not succeed in getting you through this alive.”

  Lyra knew how much that admission had cost proud Antello and smiled at him “We will escape,” she announced with feigned certainty. “I could not ask for better friends than you and Syman. We will get through this, I am sure.”

  Antello recognized the fear and uncertainty in her voice, but let the conversation die. Nodding woodenly, he turned and continued leading the way through the trees. Lyra followed silently, her head hung low, staring at the ground as it passed by. It was several moments later when she realized that she was smelling something other than the old musty smell of the forest and her head snapped up, looking about.

  Meat. Cooked meat. There was no mistaking the scent. Someone was, or had been, cooking game in the area. She moved up to Antello and noticed that he too had picked up the scent. They rode side-by-side peering around cautiously for the signs of smoke or people, but they saw nothing. The smell grew stronger and Antello grew more cautious, slowing their pace to a walk.

  They halted as one when they saw the campsite. The camp was filled with men and they knew they had stumbled upon the invaders. Swiftly they darted behind a giant fargi tree, but they knew they had been spotted because one of the invaders had turned and stared at them as they tried to hide.

  Antello quickly scouted the terrain for anything that might aid their escape when he heard the sharp whistle. He cocked his head and listened as the whistle repeated itself. Lyra grew fidgety as her horse pranced slightly, feeling the excitement of its rider.

  “We need to move!” she tensed. “I know at least one of them saw us.”

  Antello nodded as he listened again for the whistle. “It’s Syman!” he grinned. “That is Syman’s signal for all clear.”

  “How can it be
all clear in the middle of the invaders’ campsite?” snapped Lyra. “It is a trick to delay us. Let’s get out of here.”

  “But how would they know the signal?” Antello protested. “And why are they not chasing us now? I do not know what is going on, but I am going to investigate it. You stay here and make a run for it if I do not call you in right away.”

  “Antello,” Lyra pleaded, “Syman could not subdue the whole campsite. It has to be a trick. Maybe it is the spirits having fun with us. Who knows what they are capable of knowing? Let’s just leave quickly.”

  But Antello’s mind was determined and he rode out of hiding and approached the enemy campsite. Refusing to be left alone or to leave Antello to fight on his own, Lyra turned and followed him.

  As they approached the campsite through the gloom of the forest, their spirits were lightened as they recognized a smiling Syman, standing in the middle of the campsite. Lyra looked nervously around the camp and noticed that none of the invaders were moving. In fact, all of them were still sleeping. She reached out and poked Antello and he nodded that he had seen the same thing.

  When they got closer, Syman called out to them. “Hail friends! Do not worry,” he laughed, “these ones are beyond waking. They are all dead.”

  Antello rode up to Syman and leaped off his horse, hugging his lost companion. “I thought you were dead,” he cried. “How did you get away?”

  Syman hugged Antello back and then broke the embrace when Lyra arrived. He walked over to her and reached up and dragged her off the horse, encircling her tightly with his arms.

  “I thought I was dead too,” Syman confessed as Lyra kissed him, letting her tears flow down her cheeks.

  “Never leave me like that again,” Lyra cried. “I cannot handle the thought of either of you dying to get me to Alamar. From now on, we stick together.”

  Syman smiled and broke his embrace with Lyra. “Master Caulder’s students do not die easily,” he joked and immediately wished he had not spoken. Visions of all of the dead cadets at the Academy flooded his mind and he shook his head vigorously to clear the images.