by Greg Curtis
And as the Captain put the device to his mouth and started talking, he knew it did.
“This is Captain Hillaren of the Forty First Rangers riding out of Egoli.” He spoke clearly and his voice echoed across the clearing. “To the soldiers of Vel Moran inside the lodge, you may exit the lodge in safety, throw down your weapons and walk away in peace, provided that you have not harmed the prisoners.”
“If you don’t we will come in. You are alone and we are at full strength. Some of us will fall. All of you will die. We outnumber you.” That of course was just a guess based on the number of horses Briagh had seen. But it was a good guess, and it wasn't long before the first soldier appeared in the doorway his rifle above his head as if he was surrendering. He barely took a dozen paces forward before he tossed his weapon on the ground, turned, and then hurried off towards the trees where the rangers had signalled he should go As he did so the next man appeared in the doorway and did the same.
In the end four soldiers left the building the same way, all of them throwing down their rifles and scurrying away, before things fell silent once more.
A minute later, having given the soldiers all the time he felt he could, the Captain gave the order for them to advance, and sixty rangers and one panther made their way slowly toward the lodge. Argen decided to stay back for a bit with the others. He wasn't a soldier and he wasn't armed. He would only be in the way. But he did say a quick prayer to the Great Sage. A prayer that the barbarian soldiers would see the wisdom in retreating.
It must have been answered, since no shots rang out as the rangers advanced. And in short order they arrived at the lodge doors. Argen then watched nervously as the first of them drew their swords and advanced inside.
It wasn't long however, before they reappeared in the door way with the prisoners. The retainers and the princes all had their hands bound and so were running awkwardly as they escaped their home. Oddly the princes had their feet bound too and so were jumping.
“Praise be!” Argen let out a sigh as he realised that finally things were going their way. They had the notes and those who had studied them. They had the princes and the Princess should be pleased about that. And they even had Marclan who might prove to be of some use as they tried to undo the magic that had been placed upon them.
Of course, they still needed the globe. But it was a start.
Then the rangers removed the rag covering Prince Myrim's mouth and the future king of Abylon started howling in terror. Howling like a frightened dog and trying to run away on all fours, something that was prevented by his bindings. Though they shouldn’t still be treated as prisoners, their fear and their inability to understand that they were being rescued meant that they had to remain bound for the time being.
Seeing him act like that Argen wondered if he had been overly optimistic in calling it a start of anything. Suddenly he understood why the rangers hadn't untied the princes' feet.
They had the princes, the notes and a few scholars. They might even be able to discover a way to undo what had been done. But without the globe they had nothing. And it was still lost somewhere in the city filled with wolves and barbarian soldiers gradually transforming. Somehow he couldn't imagine that Briagh would ever agree to go back into the city to start hunting through an entire city for a globe. Nor could he ask him to – it was just too dangerous and he might never find it anyway. But there was also no one else with the knowledge and skills of a thief or the gift of a morph. And there was no thought as to where to even begin searching.
Chapter Thirty Two
The Gods had to have cursed him! Abel was certain of it. He could think of no other way the damned barbarian Prince and his army could keep following him. Or that so many other problems could beset him.
First he had fled the city or what remained of it like so many others. After the Prince had destroyed what remained of it there had seemed no point in remaining. Not once he'd recovered from his injuries. And especially not when there were still wolves around.
But then Abysynth had been completely destroyed. It shouldn’t therefore have come as a complete surprise when the Prince had followed him. It was odd that he too should have chosen to head north east – his own realm lay to the north west – but there could have been a reason for that. But then Abel had left the road and the Prince had once again followed him. Why? Soldiers stayed on the roads. It was quicker and generally safer. He on the other hand had chosen to take the wild path simply because there were soldiers on the roads behind him and he was slow. But they had followed him. Why?! Was it simply bad luck?
Then the wolves had appeared. Great white dire wolves the likes of which he'd never seen before. He'd had to run – something that didn't come easily to him with his crippled leg – and had veered due east. But the soldiers had veered the same way. They could have gone west. Surely at some point his luck should have turned? But it didn't. Not when in avoiding the wolves he'd run head first into the wildred.
Wildred! Just the name sent shivers running up and down his spine. To actually see one of them in field ahead was a thousand times worse. And he could see it so very clearly from where he was hiding behind some rocks. Abel sent another prayer up to Lord Sylvennia.
The thing was hideous. It walked as a man. It even looked like a man – the parts of it he could see as they emerged from the robes. But it wasn't a human. It was too thin and too tall for a start. And its face – what he could see of it beneath the hood – was terrifying. He was sure it was made of bark. He also feared that the robes concealed something far worse, as he could feel the dark magic radiating from the creature. For the first time he understood that the tales the bards told weren't exaggerations. If anything they were modest in comparison to the reality of the creature.
Still, it hadn't yet seen him. That was his only advantage. As he had been walking toward safety, it had crossed the path ahead of him, failing to look sideways as it did so. That gave Abel the time he needed to find a place to hide. Then he lay down amongst the rocks and projected an illusion of his form being nothing more than a few more rocks. He concentrated fiercely on the image, making sure the illusion remained steady. The thing was undoubtedly faster than he was and could take him down easily.
Unfortunately running wasn’t even a possibility. Because behind him were the soldiers of the barbarian Prince. Following him either deliberately or by chance – they were right on his heels. Ahead of him the wildred, behind him the barbarians. Whichever way he ran, he was in desperate danger. All he had to protect himself from either of them, was his illusion.
Abel concentrated with everything he had on maintaining the illusion of rocks surrounding him as he waited for whatever was coming. He expected it would arrive soon and it would be bad. And he was caught in the middle of it!
Already he could heard the sounds of the soldiers behind him. There were hundreds of them in the distance, and they were marching quickly across the land, straight toward the wildred. Ahead of him he could see the wildred simply standing there, waiting. The wildred for its part had to be aware of the soldiers but it remained where it was. Abel rather thought it was waiting for them And h doubted its intentions were peaceful. It appeared completely unafraid. But then it probably had no reason to fear mere men. It might not fear anything. The dark magic of the wildred was said to be beyond powerful.
It wasn't long before the first of the soldiers came across the wildred. Abel saw a quartet of scouts – probably all the barbarian Prince had left after the dire wolves had attacked – the scouts would have been the first to fall – and all of them seemed terrified. They knew what the creature was. But unlike him they didn't have the quickness of wit to run or hide. Instead they responded in the way they were trained.
One of them drew his bow and loosed an arrow at the wildred. It was a mistake. The man should have known that long before he even drew his weapon. The arrow veered off course, smashing into a rock somewhere to the side. Then the man screamed, before starting to run in circles, cry
ing and beating at himself as if he was on fire. He even stripped his armour off and slapped at his bare skin, heedless of anyone or anything else. The other scouts stared at their comrade, their faces filled with horror, though none ran to help him. None attacked the wildred either. They just stood and stared. Even when the man screamed at them to help him.
Soon the man fell down, after which he stopped moving. Abel didn't need to be a master apothecary to know the man was dead. But he didn't know what had killed him.
Unfortunately, his fellow soldiers didn't pause to think about how easily he had been killed. They cared only about exacting revenge for their companion and immediately attacked the creature. Together they all loosed a flurry of arrows at it. Again, all of them missed and soon they too were running around and screaming, as they tore off their armour. It wasn’t long before all three of them were dead. But in their deaths they had given the rest of the barbarian Prince's soldiers time to arrive and they quickly got into formation while the wildred simply stood there, staring at them.
What was going through its head Abel wondered? As it stood there, seeing the army forming up barely a hundred yards from it, was it worrying about what might come? Or was it simply waiting to kill them? He feared it was the latter.
Before he had time enough to wonder any more, the barbarians attacked.
Fifty or a hundred men at least started charging for the wildred, swords out and yelling war cries with all the strength they had. Many more took aim with their rifles and started shooting at the creature from the safety of the rocks. After that there was only insanity.
Bullets flew across the rock filled plain, and smoke filled the air, as did the sound of men screaming and dying. Those who were charging the creature began screaming for a whole new reason and then like those before them started beating at themselves. The scene was like something that only one lost in poppy dreams could imagine.
It was at that point that Abel thought he might have a chance to escape. No one was staring at him as everyone was focussed on the battle. Added to that his illusion spell meant they couldn't see him.
Heart beating furiously, he started crawling away, heading further and further to the side of the battlefield. It was slow and painful work. And all the while he had to move his illusion. Adding new rocks ahead of him, letting the old ones disappear as he no longer needed them. Surely, he kept thinking, someone would notice the changes? But though he was terrified that one of the soldiers would spot him through the haze of smoke and send a bullet flying his way, none did. Nor it seemed did the wildred notice him, and inch by inch he managed to put some more distance between himself and the battle.
Looking back he saw that the battle had worsened as the wildred had finally decided to act directly against them. Abel could see the thing had its arms raised and was sending a dozen or more balls of black fire blasting into the barbarians' lines. Balls that on touch down sent men in their dozens flying in all directions along with dirt and rock.
But finally the soldiers managed to inflict some damage on the wildred. Abel watched as the creature's robes flicked around in the air as bullets smashed into it. He watched the creature even take a step or two back under the assault. But the one thing he didn't see was the wildred fall down.
Things became even more confused when a huge black drake abruptly appeared from out of nowhere to attack the barbarian Prince's army. It added to the smoke and fire as the huge flying serpent of black, sinuous scales sent a river of flame streaming down out of the air. After that he heard screaming. Not just that of the men dying, but also the drake's own blood curdling roars that echoed across the entire plain as it dived and soared above them.
The barbarian army quickly scattered under the assault. The fireballs had already killed scores, perhaps hundreds, and the barbarian Prince's shock troops were running around in circles, panicking and tearing their armour off. The arrival of the drake with its rivers of fire tipped the scales. Clearly they hadn’t expected it, and had no weapons that were effective against such creatures. There were very few such weapons. So the barbarians broke and ran, scattering in all directions, while the grass turned to fire for as far as the eye could see as the drake ruled the skies above. Meanwhile Abel, his heart beating like an army of drums, simply concentrated on hiding, and prayed that the fire didn't come his way. And in between bouts of terror he kept wondering how one dark wizard creature on his own could be so powerful? How could any wizard summon such creatures?
The battle didn’t last all that long. Once the barbarian army scattered, the drake busied itself giving chase to the largest groups of fleeing soldiers while the rest ran. Those who had horses galloped frantically for the distant trees.
That seemed wrong to Abel. These were supposed to be the great barbarian soldiers. They bragged constantly about their fearlessness – usually while they were beating some helpless victim to death and laughing at his suffering and mocking him for his weakness and cowardice. But under the fiery attack of the drake they had fled just like everyone else. Some of them even ran straight past him, though thankfully they hadn’t spotted him in their blind panic. Perhaps that was the only thing they could do given many of them were actually on fire. Still, it seemed wrong. They should have stood there and fought! They should have died nobly! Instead they had run.
Then at some point as he lay there cowering he realised that the wildred had gone, though Abel hadn't seen it leave. Then again, for a time he'd had eyes only for the drake as it flew overhead like everyone else. But at some point the creature that had summoned it had left. No doubt it thought it had done enough damage for one day. Killed enough people. And who knew? Maybe it had actually taken some pain from the bullets that had hit it. Regardless, Abel gave thanks that it had left..
He needed to get going too. Wolves, wildred and barbarians! This place was not for the likes of him. Still, he waited a good long time before he risked standing up and letting his illusion drop. Long enough for the fires to die down, and the surviving barbarians to have vanished from sight. Long enough for the drake to have vanished too. He also paused once again to check the surrounding lands very carefully for any sight of the wildred. For as he suddenly realised, if he could hide behind an illusion, it probably could too.
Abel found himself was in no hurry to get up. In fact, he lay there behind his illusion long enough to hear the sound of birdsong return to the world, and to let the silence of the rest of the world return.
But eventually he decided it was safe to head out, and he began walking, away from the battlefield as quickly as his crippled leg would allow. He didn't want to be around so much death. But he did stare at some of the fallen bodies as he passed them, curious. The bodies of the blindly panicking soldiers who had scattered even as they stripped off their armour. And even in death many showed no signs of what had killed them. No sign other than the terror etched into their immobile faces. Maybe they really had died of fright? They had thought they were burning to death and their hearts had given out under the strain. He didn't know of course. You couldn't tell much from a corpse. But it was the only explanation he had.
But it wasn't his concern what had killed them. Only that it didn't kill him. So he hurried quickly away, heading in no particular direction other than away from the battle. Later he could decide where he wanted to go. Right now all that mattered was leaving here.
Unfortunately someone else had other ideas. He discovered that when the air in front of him abruptly rippled and he saw a wildred appear in front of him.
For long seconds Abel stood there and stared in horror at the creature. Eventually though his brain kicked into gear, and he tried to run.
But his body refused to obey him! Not just his bad leg. Every muscle he had! He was frozen. Terrified, heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, he found himself unable to move. And the only thought he had other than terror was that the Gods had definitely cursed him! He was sure he'd escaped unseen.
“Who are you little light bringer?”
The wildred asked the question, it's voice far too breathy to be human. But then it wasn't human. He was sure of that.
“You speak?!” Abel blurted the words out without thinking, and then cursed himself for his stupidity.
“Sometimes. When it suits. But must I repeat my question? Who are you little light bringer?”
“Abel. I wasn't in the fight. I just got caught amid the battlefield.” Not that there had been any real battle. The Prince's men had simply been exterminated. They had never stood a chance. Not against someone who could summon a drake.
“I saw that. My student saw too. He may be angry.”
His student? Did wildred have students? Abel didn't know. But he realised something in time. This was not the same wildred that had attacked the barbarians. Or if he was he had changed his cloak. This one wore a deep forest green cloak that was slightly dappled. The other had worn a cloak of dark grey.
“Come! You will carry and I will teach.” The wildred indicated the sack on the ground beside him with a hand that was far too long and thin. Skin stretched over bones.