Jaramel nodded again. “Yes…except this time he must have also sensed the magic emanating from the Soul Crystal as well within my signature.”
“Huh,” I added with a laugh, “he then must have thought that there was one powerful magic user in here.”
“Exactly,” chuckled Baram, “now we know why he didn’t come in after you, he was probably too scared to!”
The light from the Glowball briefly illuminated a row of blue-white teeth inside Jaramel’s hood revealing his smile.
“I had not thought of it like that,” he declared.
“That still does not tell us who he was,” I added.
“I think I know,” revealed the mage, “I believe him to be Vorgannon’s own apprentice.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
Jaramel shrugged. “It is more of a feeling than anything. You see, all wizards take on an apprentice at one time or another. None of us are immortal,” Jaramel turned to Udos once more and resumed stroking the beast’s neck, “it is the only way of passing on our knowledge, so it is not forgotten.”
Great! Now two rogue wizards are plotting the south’s destruction. I knew I should have asked for more coin!
“Well,” I said resolvedly, “it does not matter whether there are two or twenty-two magic users against us, we still have to get this Crystal back to Ranak-Lore. And besides,” I added in afterthought, “I think our friend has more pressing engagements to consider, than to be bothered with the likes of us right now.”
Baram rose to his feet as I turned to Jaramel.
“Jaramel, we shall keep the light from the Glowball, but I think it best if you continue to lead the way south with your eyes.”
“Of course,” replied the mage as he turned to grab the reins of Udos only to stop and turn around once more, “and which way might that be?” he asked hesitantly.
I smiled at the remark before pointing to a root near to his feet.
“You see that plant,” I asked.
“Asil root, yes,” acknowledged Jaramel with a nod, “why do you ask?”
“Well, its flower always points to the north. So we go that way,” I indicated the direction.
Jaramel looked down to the flower by his boot one last time before raising the Glowball staff aloft and setting off south into the forest.
“Asil root,” repeated Baram as he passed, “spectacular bloom in the light of a full moon,” he remarked. I shook my head as I started to follow.
It was no wonder I had been working on my own for the last two years. I was with a mage who did not know which way south was, and a big weaponsmith who has a passion for moon flowers! I looked up at the half crescent shape hanging in the gloomy clouds above. “No chance of seeing its full radiant blossom tonight though,” I thought.
We journeyed for the remainder of that night without further incident. The only times we slowed were when the lack of visible Asil root flowers had forced Jaramel to ask for directions, and also when we happened across the occasional Midnight tree concealed in amongst the Ackash’ and Elmwood's of the forest. I smiled knowingly to myself when I saw the young wizard give everyone the Midnights a wide berth, whilst keeping a wary eye firmly fixed upon the branches above. A few hours before first light and we took what sleep was needed to recover our strength. Our breakfast for the morning consisted of black plum berries that Baram had managed to forage, a suspicious looking root that Jaramel had dug up, and also forest rabbit that I had the good fortune to snare. After finishing off the last of the berries to take the taste of the bitter root from my mouth, I checked over my equipment and made ready to leave. The density of the forest meant we had to continue south by foot after that, amidst golden rays of morning sunshine that filtered in streams from above, and to the tune of the forest birds that seemed to welcome us wherever we went. By late morning the trees had thinned and became sparse enough for us to be able to continue our journey on horseback once again. We rode for many miles, each of us in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I generally had been thinking about the forest we were in. It certainly seemed to rival in size to the Guardian Grove of the south. Nevertheless, at our constant pace hopefully, we should break through its southern edge by daybreak tomorrow. By late afternoon we rested again in preparation for our night time push.
We ate what we could find, and talked freely amongst ourselves on matters other than that of our current predicament. Baram and Jaramel both commented lightheartedly about the general affairs concerning Ranak-Lore, the properties of magic, and which was the best way to make a good sword. I tried my best to look interested. As their conversation continued, Jaramel conjured up a small whirlwind of leaves that proceeded to encircle the big man, much to his delight. As the magic faded, I watched the leaves fall back to the earth, and suddenly remembered something else that I had noticed about Jaramel lately. He seemed to be recovering from his casting a lot quicker than he had done in the past. At the demon’s encampment he had recovered not long after his strenuous efforts upon the crater’s rim, and then again, at the forest road when he had tried to conceal his presence, he had been back to his usual self within a few hours. It was almost as if he was becoming stronger with his abilities. Although judging by his physical appearance, you would not have believed it.
I took a deep breath of fresh forest air and sighed. It was hard to imagine, that as the three of us sat in the small tranquil, leaf-covered glade the north and south were now at war. This picturesque forest in the north of Kantaria felt a million miles from anywhere. For now, all our troubles were silent. For now, we were just three companions camping within the trees.
I lay back with my hands behind my head on the soft, welcoming earth. The murky afternoon clouds overhead spoke of rain, but not yet, possibly tomorrow.
“Baram,” I called softly, “wake me in an hour…”
The firm grip upon my shoulder that had awakened me from my slumber told me it was time to move on once again. Blood red skies loomed in the heavens above us like an omen of ill will as the last rays of the evening’s sun, disappeared around us.
Jaramel was already waiting in his saddle as I shook the remainder of sleep from my weary head and mounted.
“If you will master Jaramel,” I said gracefully, with a sweep of the hand as I offered the lead to him once again.
Jaramel accepted with a nod, but before kicking Anvil off for a start, he first looked across for a reassuring point in the right direction.
An hour later and we had lit the Glowball staff. It's light pushed back the shadows as far as it was able to, but this night was dark, very dark. The stormy clouds I had spied earlier remained overhead and now cast their gloom-filled shadows on the land below, intensifying the night. Thankfully, though, the terrain remained flat enough, and the trees still sparse enough to be able to continue riding on horseback, be it as slow as it was.
But it was not the winding, curving ride I was enduring that worried me, nor was it this darker than dark night, or the threat of rain from above that had troubled my mind for the past few minutes. No, it was the sounds of padded feet that followed in the darkness that had me concerned!
Baram must have heard them too. The weaponsmith’s helmeted head looked first to his left, and then to right before he slowed and came nearer to me.
“Taragon, I think something follows us,” he said just a little concerned.
“I know,” I replied, “more than one, they have been following us for some time now. I had hoped they would have passed us by now, but whatever it is, it is persistent.”
“What do you think they are?” asked Baram just as a snapping twig to our left turned our heads in that direction.
“Hard to say,” I responded, “we’re travelling too fast for them to be Razorbears, which is good. Perhaps they are Werecats, but they’re most probably Wolvern I shouldn’t wonder.”
Baram looked beyond our haven of light.
“What if they are Malmorphs”, he said with alarm.
&n
bsp; “Malmorphs, that’s ridiculous, “ I scorned, “the last reported Malmorph was killed over a year ago. There aren’t any more left,” I assured.
“Yes, maybe not in the south, but here they might be more abundant. What if they are Malmorph’s Taragon, what then?”
“Then my friend, we are dead men already,” I hissed angrily.
Looking ahead, my eyes went to our light-carrying apprentice who continued to ride some yards in front of us.
“Jaramel,” I called from behind.
“What is it?” replied the mage.
“Would you mind turning around to see what is stalking us?” I asked casually.
Jaramel slowed his ride and turned carefully in his saddle to look behind. In the next instant, I’m sure I saw the staff in his hand waver, and the two red dots of his eyes grow wider.
“There are beasts in the forest!” he said excitedly, “we are surrounded!” he added with alarm.
“How many?” I asked unceremoniously.
A few seconds had passed before I received my reply.
“Fifteen maybe Twenty. It's hard to tell!” came an answer in a voice filled with more fear.
“And do they look like the things we encountered in the mist?” I questioned for a third time.
“Yes!”
I turned to Baram.
“See, Wolvern,” I said confidently.
“Sorry Taragon,” said Baram as he lowered his head, “I guess I got a bit carried away there. It’s…it’s been a while you know.”
“That’s alright my friend,” I comforted, “I understand.” Baram looked across and smiled, just as Jaramel yelled from ahead.
“What do we do?” implored the mage.
“Well my friend,” I said turning to the weaponsmith, “what say you to getting that blade of yours wet?”
The big man looked across to me and grinned. It was a maniacal looking grin.
“I would say it’s about bloody time!” he said boldly.
“Come on then, let’s go and tell this mage the good news.” I grinned.
“Jaramel!” I called as I came alongside, “we are being pursued by a Wolvern pack. Fairly soon they will stop following and attack. We must slow, and deal with them now, or they will try and take us from our horses. Do you understand?”
Jaramel nodded his head vigorously whilst concentrating on the darkness behind us as we started to slow.
I suppose when I think about it, Jaramel had good reason to be afraid. This sheltered mage was the only one of us who could actually see what Baram and myself thankfully could not. A few Wolvern were never much trouble. But I would be lying to myself if I was not just a little concerned abut the fifteen or so that Jaramel had mentioned. Hiding my fears, we pulled our agitated mounts to a stop and hurriedly dismounted.
“Quickly,” I urged, “tie off the horses to that tree.”
“Jaramel,” I said turning upon our anxious mage, “I suggest you climb it.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” responded the apprentice.
“Have you ever fought a Wolvern before?” I enquired with a smile, as Baram pulled upon the holding strap that kept his weapon in place.
“No…I have not,” came the sullen reply.
“Well Baram and I have, so if you want to live beyond today, then I suggest you do what I say, and you do it quickly!”
Jaramel glared at me for a few brief contempt filled seconds before placing the Glowball staff at the base of the tree and starting his climb.
“Oh, and you may want to draw that nice looking blade of yours,” I added as I turned towards the night and reached to loosen the securing straps upon my leg, “these Wolvern are pretty good jumpers!”
With our backs to the tree, Baram and I protected either side whilst Jaramel climbed. There was nothing more to do now than to wait for the inevitable attack.
“What are they doing?” I questioned, as I watched a pair of illuminated Wolvern eyes blink in the darkness.
“They are encircling us,” came a reply from above.
“Standard Wolvern tactics,” I said aloud. “They will make their presence known soon, and when they do, they will attack very quickly in ones and twos,” I looked across to Baram for whose benefit I was saying this, just in case he should have forgotten. But my old friend looked ready for anything.
“Baram,” I called, “they will send in their weakest first to wear us down, save your strength for the later ones.”
“I know, I know,” came Baram’s sharp reply as his large gauntleted hands flexed eagerly upon the shaft of his axe.
The growl that turned my head to the left immediately sent my heart thudding against the inside of my chest.
This was not unknown to me. I had been here before. But now I was with my old friend and a boy of a mage who was inexperienced for his years. I also knew that in the coming moments they would truly be on their own.
As a multitude of hungry eyes now looked in, and as the crescendo of snarling growls increased in volume, I prayed silently to any Gods that cared to listen.
“Don’t let anything happen to them…”
A second later and they were upon us.
“Here they come!” I shouted as the first of them broke through our barrier of light only to instantly catch ablaze.
I blindly looked up into the branches above.
“Save your magic until its needed!” I scorned.
Returning my attention back to the present, I was just in time to see another of them break from the darkness and come charging towards me. With snarling hatred, and fangs hungry for flesh, its long hairy limbs covered the ground between us shockingly fast.
I had no time to think. I did, however, have the time to release the bolt from my crossbow that I had been aiming in its direction ever since it had revealed itself.
With a screech of pain, the beast fell to the ground, disabled from the bolt which had struck its hind leg. Ignoring the stricken animal as it crawled away, I turned to the next Wolvern which had started its charge, just as another two emerged, heading straight for Baram!
With the twang of tension released, my second bolt flew from its holdings and stabbed the oncoming creature full in the face. The deathblow sent the creature crumbling into a heap at my feet as a war cry yelled out to my right. With blood surging through my veins, I let my crossbow fall to the ground and freed my sword, now armed with blade and shield I awaited the next onslaught.
“TARAGON, BEHIND YOU!” Jaramel’s words from above sent me into a spinning squat towards the ground just as the Wolvern that had been charging from the rear leapt into the air. With jaws intended for my throat the beast missed its mark, as my sudden change in height now allowed me to guide its mid-air leap with my shield. This provided me with ample time to thrust my bladed weapon upwards into its unprotected belly. Wet Wolvern blood splattered across my face as the dead beast collapsed to the earth.
Springing back to my feet I risked a look to Baram and any fears that I may have had concerning his battle abilities quickly dissolved. The big man was in full swing with his weapon, felling another of the beasts as I watched. Every time after that I had managed to glance over, another dead or dying Wolvern lay at his feet. This was the Baram I knew, strong, dependable, reliable Baram, and he appeared to be revelling in the moment!
Three more now charged from the snarling night, another for Baram, another for me, and one chancing its luck towards our wild horses.
“Jaramel!” I called as I parried drooling fangs before introducing my foe to my sword. But I had not needed to. The bright light of burning flames, the eruption of a wall of magic appearing a few yards behind the horses meant that Jaramel had played his hand. The lone charging Wolvern that had managed to break through the flames but was swiftly sent back into them by a ferocious kick from Storm.
“One for Storm!” I cheered aloud, as another charged from the darkness.
“Taragon!” came another urgent cry from behind. Spinning around I saw the young mage
slashing wildly downwards with his inadequate blade as a particularly large Wolvern at the base of the tree made another jumping attempt for his legs. Leaping forwards, the big animal yelped in pain as my unsuspecting blade exploded through its back and between its ribcage with all the force of my arm. Withdrawing my heavily stained sword, the beast slumped to the earth.
“Taragon,” puffed Jaramel from above. I looked up to see two glowing red eyes glaring back at me “I’ve been a fool. Quickly, throw me the staff of Baros!”
“The what?” I questioned my eyes already upon my next attacker.
“The Glowball staff!” urged the mage, “hurry now, and throw me the Glowball staff!”
“What now,” I thought, he could already see in the dark, what more could he do with the light? With my limbs ignoring my head, I stooped to collect the ball of light from the base of the tree before thrusting it upwards as far as I was able. But no sooner had my hand left the staff when I was sent forcibly sprawling towards the ground. With sword flying from my grasp and swearing a curse, I rolled to correct my view as snapping jaws near my head demanded me to be quick about it.
“Taragon!” Baram’s urgent call came as he realised my plight. I rolled onto my back and now saw dark heavens above, but only briefly, as a drooling Wolvern that had obscured my view now loomed ominously above me.
“Hold your ground!” I ordered aloud.
As the beast went for my throat, I hit it the side of its head with the only weapon I had left available, my shield. From experiences shared I knew that there were three types of people who handled situations like this. There were those who would be frozen with fear and die, and then there were those who would panic and die, but there were also be those who would keep their heads and do their up-most to survive. Luckily for me, I fell into the latter category.
As the foul smelling Wolvern reeled from my attack, I kicked it with my leg as I lay on the earth. With a yelp of pain, the Wolvern was sent to the ground. Quickly turning on the flat of my stomach, I sought out my blade, knowing full well that I had only seconds before it would recover and resume its attack.
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 39