The Trees And The Night (Book 3)

by Daniel McHugh

  “Are you so certain?” questioned Granu. “Certain enough to gamble all of our lives.”

  Vieri hesitated.

  “Yes,” she stated finally.

  “Humph,” snorted Granu. “We’ve already proven many of your beliefs faulty today.”

  Vieri reddened in anger and fought hard to control it. She stomped up the slope to confront the giant.

  “My beliefs are immaterial to this discussion,” shouted the girl. “It will not matter if the Ulrog have or have not followed, if Cefiz is dead from exhaustion.”

  Granu sneered at the girl as one of his huge hands shot out and locked on her shoulder. The giant firmly moved the girl aside then walked toward the Guardsman. Cefiz stood hunched over, struggling for breath. His chest heaved and produced a hacking cough. Granu looked him up and down then turned back to the Windrider.

  “He is fit,” declared the giant and he strode past her up the mountain.

  Vieri’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She turned to protest but felt the soft touch of another hand on her shoulder. She glanced back to see an exhausted Cefiz smiling at her.

  “He is right,” said the Guardian. “I will do what I must.”

  Vieri nervously returned the smile then nodded her approval. Cefiz grinned and moved past her up the slope.

  An hour later Granu slowed and halted. The ridgeline they traversed continued to rise, but a spur broke off to the East and wandered across the face of the mountain. Vieri witnessed such spurs on their climb. Granu encountered no difficulty determining their path earlier, but this appeared different. A twenty yard, rain washed, granite slab comprised the area where the spur met the ridgeline. No earth or grit lay on its rugged surface. Granu slowly walked back and forth across its face.

  “What is it, Keltaran?” interrupted the Windrider.

  The giant ground his teeth and continued his perusal of the slab.

  “I look for signs,” said the giant flatly.

  “Of what?” scoffed the girl. “There is nothing to behold.”

  “I do not want to lose the Ulrog party guarding Lilywynn,” growled Granu. “This country is unknown to me. Perhaps there is a quicker route running north and east simultaneously. If so, the Ulrog will take it and we will lose precious time.”

  “How are you ever to know?” complained Vieri. “If the Ulrog turned from their climb here, we will never know. There are no signs.”

  Granu took his eyes from the slab and glared at the girl.

  “Perhaps to the untrained eye,” said the giant. “But I know rock and stone.”

  He turned and pointed up the mountain.

  “The Ulrog climbed higher,” stated the Keltaran. “Many of these spurs are nothing more than dead ends.”

  Granu began to trudge up the steep slope. Cefiz and Vieri eyed one another and obediently followed. The girl looked troubled.

  “He has some amazing abilities,” stated Cefiz in an attempt to assuage the Windrider.

  The girl recognized the attempt and smiled to the Guardsman.

  “He sees something in the stone I do not,” commented Vieri. “He has been trained on stone. Have him track a man across the shifting sands of the desert. Now that is a talent.”

  “Can you do that?” asked Cefiz in surprise.

  “I am competent,” replied the girl. “But it is Rada who is a true expert.”

  “That seems ... impossible,” said Cefiz shaking his head.

  “Seems,” smiled Vieri, “but it is not. All things leave their mark. Even in the shifting sands of the desert. The wind carves a pattern in the sands. Anything that disrupts that pattern alters it forever.”

  Cefiz cocked a brow in confusion.

  “But the wind and the sand cover the trail.”

  “True,” replied Vieri, “but there is a time between the disruption and the cover when all is revealed. It depends on how quickly you discern the signs.”

  “So it is with stone,” said Granu.

  The pair nearly walked into the giant who stopped and stood pointing at the path.

  “To the untrained eye, the surface of the rock is barren and lifeless,” continued the giant. “This is far from true. If you look closely, intently, at the tiniest elements of the stone you will see a minute world of growth and life.”

  Vieri and Cefiz followed his pointing finger to the surface of the stone. Vieri leaned closer and studied the rock. She looked perplexed. Granu straightened.

  “I will try to teach you a rudimentary knowledge of tracking in the mountains,” announced Granu to the girl. “Agreed?”

  Vieri hesitated for a moment then bowed her head.

  “Agreed,” said the Windrider. “I am honored.”

  “Excellent,” returned Granu. “First, you must learn to differentiate between naturally caused disturbances and those caused by human or Ulrog. The signs are almost .....”

  Granu continued to instruct the pair as they slowly made headway up the ridge.

  Woil growled, gnashed his massive jaws and barked orders at the Ulrog packs under his command. He drove the Hackles forward relentlessly. The Malveel was concerned. Not only did he hunger to catch the Keltaran entering his sphere of command, but he was also eager to overtake the pack dragging the captured Elf back to Kel Izgra.

  Woil saw the opportunity for glory in these circumstances and refused to let it slip away. He snapped at the pack as they trudged up the ridgeline past him, then he turned up slope as well.

  “Ettreck,” shouted the Malveel. “What do you see?”

  Immediately the hairless, rock encrusted head of his lead tracker rose above the hunched and running figures of the pack. The tracker narrowed his eyes and stared down the slope at his master.

  “Members of the Vendi pack dragged the Elf this way almost a full day ago,” responded Ettreck. “The Keltaran and his group follow. They are making good time, my lord.”

  “Granu of Keltar intends to attempt a rescue,” stated Woil. “This captured Elf must be the Seraph. Ader Light Wielder acted as bait. The Old Man could not attempt a rescue himself for we would have been drawn to him.

  “We will follow and dispose of the Keltaran before we move on to take the Elf. The glory of the capture will be mine.”

  Ettreck bowed and started back up the slope. The pack rumbled upward.

  “The pack rested here for a moment,” said Granu pointing to the surface of the rock.

  “How can you be certain?” questioned Vieri. “The signs are as before. Scuffed rock, crushed lichens.”

  “Yes,” replied Granu, “but they are spread out in a wide area across the face of the granite. The Ulrog were not in single file as during their previous march. “

  Vieri took note and saw the signs as well. The Keltaran prince was a man of many abilities. She already learned much from him. Granu turned and continued the climb. Vieri stayed close. She not only learned from what he offered, but also from what surfaces he chose to inspect. Cefiz followed behind, his determination carried him forward.

  Tar Grabor was one of the smaller Scythtar Mountains. A great cataclysmic event in the ancient past tore its summit asunder. This explained why the Ulrog used it for much of their travel in and out of the Northern Wastes. Its lesser stature combined with a long, level ravine passing through the breach in the summit provided easy access in and out of the Ulrog’s homeland. The ravine also afforded a path to the spine running east to west across the length of the range. The higher Woil and his Hackles journeyed up the face of Tar Grabor, the more the mountain shrunk in size compared to the giants standing around it.

  One of these giants clouded Woil’s thoughts. With each step, mighty Mount Hdjmir’s face grew and stared down at Woil from above the broken head of Mount Grabor. The mountain of Awoi always troubled Sulgor and his brethren. The Malveel firmly controlled the range and therefore Hdjmir, but the mountain behaved treacherously to the Ulrog. Weather changed rapidly and stable footing gave way for no reason. Rumor ran amongst the lower Ulrog. Rumor t
urned to superstition and superstition led to fear. When able, the Ulrog avoided setting foot on the mountain.

  Woil urged his Hackles forward then narrowed his eyes at the dark clouds surrounding the summit of the Hdjmir. He knew the mountain and in his fiery heart, Woil gave thanks that he would be hunting east, away from its slopes.

  Vieri was a quick learner and the giant allowed her to track on some of the easier portions of the trail. As the trio climbed, mighty Hdjmir grew before them and the slopes of Tar Grabor fell away. Granu’s eyes were drawn to the slopes of the mountain and with them his thoughts.

  “I have lost the signs,” stated Vieri.

  Granu did not reply. No Keltaran set foot on the slopes of the great mountain in centuries. Ever since the Ulrog poured across the Scythtar from the Northern Wastes, Hdjmir remained restricted from his people. The Keltaran considered it holy ground and now the Abbot of the Monastery of Awoi skirted its slopes as he headed east in what was probably a vain attempt to rescue an Elven girl.

  “I cannot find the trail,” complained Vieri.

  Granu snapped from thought and glanced to the Windrider. She stood staring at one of the many giant slabs of granite laid bare to the elements. Granu moved forward and surveyed the stone. Several fist-sized chunks of rock lay strewn across its surface. The giant bent over and grabbed one of the chunks, lifting it to his face for closer inspection.

  “They passed,” concluded the giant.

  The Windrider looked at him in confusion.

  “A stone of this size is not turned by the elements of wind and rain,” continued Granu. “The green lichen encrusted to its underside should not be growing there. The growth would have browned and faded if turned from the sun days ago. Therefore, something flipped it recently.”

  Vieri took note and nodded to the giant. Granu allowed a weak smile to the girl. If anything, she was diligent, thought the giant. Granu glanced past the girl and his face grew grim at the sight of Cefiz. The Guardsman looked very weak and his sunken eyes and cheeks betrayed his true condition. Granu removed the pack slung across his back and threw it to the ground.

  “We will break for a time,” said the giant retrieving a water skin from beneath his robes. “We are no good to Lilywynn if we are exhausted when we encounter her captors.”

  Vieri and Cefiz both nodded their approval. Granu stepped toward the pack and immediately sat on the cold, hard surface of the granite slab. Vieri and Cefiz joined him and retrieved similar skins from their packs. The giant took a long slow pull on the water skin as he stared at the shifting mists swirling about the head of Mount Hdjmir.

  CHAPTER 2: THE CROSSROADS

  Granu, Cefiz and Vieri spent an hour restoring their strength for the final push to the heights of the Scythtar’s spine. A soft discussion began between the Windrider and the Guardsman concerning their peoples and customs, but the Keltaran remained silent, staring at the peak of Hdjmir. Finally, the giant rose and turned to his companions.

  “We must go,” he stated firmly. “The Ulrog guarding Lilywynn may slow because they are in familiar terrain, but we cannot afford to let them outpace us.”

  The pair agreed and three hours later they crested the high point of the ridgeline. Before them lie the peak of Tar Grabor. The mountain appeared to be severed just right of center. The bulk of the peak lay on the west of the trail, a thousand foot, shear wall of rock stretched to its summit. To the east of the trail lay an eight hundred foot tall pyramid of shattered stone. Granu halted.

  Some unimaginable natural event must have torn the eastern slope from the mountain eons ago. After this event, the ice and wind slowly chiseled the surface of the eastern slope and deposited their work in the crevice within the summit. The path continued north into the shadows between the broken halves of the peak. Granu turned to Vieri and Cefiz.

  “From this point forward we no longer climb the face of the Scythtar range, we travel within it. These are the lands of the Ulrog,” stated Granu. “For thousands of years no human has entered.”

  The pair solemnly nodded their understanding and the trio pressed forward. Within moments they were plunged into the darkness of the mountain ravine. Cold enveloped their bodies and the whistle of the thin air charging through the passage drowned out all other noise.

  Granu led them forward. He no longer searched the ground for it was clear there was but one path forward. After a thousand paces they exited from Grabor. Ahead the path wound across a massive heap of broken stone. A mound of broken stone created by years of debris pouring into the gap between Mount Grabor and Tar Hdjmir. Granu moved forward keeping his eyes glued to the footing beneath him. On either side the jumble of rock tumbled down thousands of feet into darkness.

  Half way across the mound of broken stone Granu glanced to the West and held his breath. Cefiz and Vieri followed his eyes and stood in silence. Hdjmir obliterated all else from sight. The massive hunk of granite dwarfed the remainder of the range. Gray clouds a thousand feet tall rolled about the head of Hdjmir obscuring the heights. Snow and sleet pounded its surface yet did not soften its features. Innumerable cliffs and ridges cascaded from the hidden peak of the great mountain

  “The mountain looks .... angry,” mumbled Vieri in awe.

  “It is a good thing we will not face its anger,” replied Granu as the giant turned from the mountain and followed the path north.

  Ettreck slid in line next to the prowling figure of Woil.

  “They are but a half league distant, my lord,” announced the tracker. “These clods must exercise caution or the Keltaran will become aware.”

  Woil’s lips curled into a look of supreme displeasure. Ettreck was certainly correct, but Woil disliked interaction with his subordinates. It had always been his problem with the Ulrog. The plans of mighty Amird required a disposable warrior to reach fruition, but that required a warrior with very little intelligence. Those of limited intelligence needed constant direction. Woil issued a deep growl from the depths of his cavernous belly. The Ulrog halted, recognizing the signal. Stony faces turned to the red eyes of their master.

  “Move cautiously,” snarled Woil. “We are upon them. They will most certainly pause at the crossroads. We will take them there.”

  All in the group bowed in response to their orders and crept forward. Ettreck smiled in satisfaction. He relished the indirect control he held over the pack. The tracker turned to follow and caught the sight of Woil glaring at him. Quickly Ettreck lowered his head.

  “Thank you, my lord,” mumbled Ettreck as he stared at the rocks below.

  A low, wicked snarl was the only response the tracker heard as he slowly backed up the trail keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ground below.

  The bridge of broken stone ran forward for five hundred paces to a saddle between the northern peaks. The trio moved quickly but cautiously across the bridge, sending chunks of rock clattering down the heap of stone they traversed. When they reached the saddle, they paused.

  Ahead the trail plunged into the Northern Wastes. The frozen land stretched to the northern horizon. Nothing green stood on the plains far below, the Wastes consisted of nothing but rock and the only thing that grew there were the ice crystals slowly splitting that rock open.

  “Behold, the land of the stone men,” said Granu, his breath clouding before him in the frosty temperatures.

  Granu stooped and studied the trail. The Ulrog pack certainly came this way. Their tracks were plain to see throughout much of the crushed stone path. The giant turned to the East. A spur from the trail ran toward face of Tar Forang. In the distance, the clearly visible path etched the surface of the mountain, skirting beneath its heights.

  Granu slowly turned and faced west. Tar Hdjmir stood like a sentry over the western half of the Scythtar. Here the path ran toward the great mountain along a steep, narrow ledge. Granu followed it with his eyes as it disappeared in the shadows and mists of the mountain’s peak. The trio stood at a crossroads.

  “Our path lies to the east
,” said Granu pointing toward Tar Forang. “The Ulrog maintain a sizable lead, but all large parties require more time to move than one of our size. I suggest a short break and then we will resume our chase.”

  Again the pair nodded silently. Their determination pleased Granu. He glanced back to Cefiz. The previous rest was certainly the remedy for his compatriot. The climb was strenuous but the Guardsman persevered. Now he would receive some precious time to recover even further.

  The remainder of their journey would certainly contain some climbs, but nothing like what they just experienced. Most of their intended path remained near a constant elevation. The Ulrog pack held a half day’s lead and Granu required at least two days to cut that lead. In that time, the giant hoped the Guardsman regained much of his strength. Then the true test of his injuries would be confronted, the Ulrog.

  The big man dropped to the ground beside his pack and his comrades followed his example.

  Ettreck slowly led the Ulrog through the shadows of the fissure of Tar Grabor. The sun still played fully upon the face of the mountains. This would make it difficult for the Keltaran prince and his comrades to spy the pack moving through the crack. Quiet was the key. Their party was large and it was difficult to keep all of its members still, but so far they were undetected. As they reached a point ten yards from the fissure’s opening, Ettreck held up a hand and the pack halted.

  The tracker’s eyes widened in excitement and he peered toward the back of the pack to where his Malveel lord stood. Woil narrowed his eyes then quickly nodded to Ettreck.

  Granu pulled a stick of jerked meat from his sack and tore into it. Vieri shot to her feet and a clatter of stone told the giant all he needed to know.

  “Ulrog on the path!” shouted the girl, pointing to the fissure through Tar Grabor.

  Granu snatched his pack and staff from the ground as he rose. Cefiz slid beside him and drew a saber. The giant instantly knew there were too many. They must have tracked him from the river below. Granu searched the area about him. The trio’s position was all wrong. They held no advantage. His eyes shot to the West. The path climbed the narrow ledge toward the heights of Hdjmir. His decision became clear.