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The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series: Books 1-3 Box Set High, Epic Fantasy on a Grand Dragon Scale! Kindle Edition

Page 71

by C. Craig Coleman


  “Climb up in the branches,” Tonelia said.

  “Go!”

  They hid in the trees and remained dead silent. There was no breeze, and the limbs hid their occupants except for one. Saxthor looked from his tree and saw Astorax’s antlers sticking out of the cedar’s green canopy with Twit still holding on.

  “Astorax!” Saxthor said. Saxthor pointed to his head, and the deer-man turned his head, so his antlers went back into the tree canopy. Poor man, he thought. I thought we’d never get him up in a tree. Twit had a fit the whole time we struggled.

  The southerners held their breaths as the orcs marched past through the site. Tonelia flinched with each clanking of an orc’s armor. Saxthor rubbed Delia’s head to keep her quiet in his lap.

  I hope the orcs don’t stop under the trees to rest, he thought. If Delia whimpers, we’ll be done for. Nowhere else would orcs move in the daytime.

  Astorax’s hoof slipped off the limb he’d propped it on. Bark fluttered down beside the orcs. Saxthor caught his breath. He saw Tonelia’s hand cover her mouth, stopping a gasp. Neither Astorax nor Twit moved. Saxthor looked down. One orc kicked a piece of bark out of his way, and another bumped into him.

  “Keep moving!” the second orc said.

  Grumbling, the orcs marched on despite the midday sun. That evening, the adventurers camped among huge boulders, from which they could see anything approaching across the horizon. After the long, unnerving day, they ate their cold meal, too tired to complain.

  “Repack in case we have to move quickly in the dark,” Saxthor said.

  “Pack, unpack, repack,” Tonelia said.

  “You think they might discover us out here away from everything?” Bodrin asked.

  “With so many orcs, they might appear anywhere.”

  “Orcs prefer to travel at night,” Tournak said. “It’s because the Dark Lord bred them beneath the mountains to avoid discovery. The fact they’re traveling in such numbers during the day is alarming. There must be even more moving south after dark.”

  Even with the constant fear of discovery, the group slept well that night after the day of hiking across the barren landscape. Days later, they reached the desert’s western edge and began traveling through grassland dotted with occasional woodlands.

  “We’ll take cover in that small woodland for a rest,” Saxthor said.

  Twit was especially glad to see trees again. Traveling in Astorax’s antlers resulted in a lot of motion sickness, a fact known all too well by the deer-man. Old Twit flew ahead to inspect the grove before giving the chirp to enter.

  The adventurers approached the oasis with caution. The thicket of various-sized trees grew up around a natural spring down in the grove’s center depression. Small bushes beneath the tree canopy gave way to ferns surrounding a spring-fed pool.

  “This is a lucky break,” Saxthor said. “Replenish the water supplies. We may have to move out hastily. Walk on the stones, so you don’t leave tracks.”

  “I think we’ve done that before,” Bodrin said. He put his hand on Saxthor’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, I’m skittish. I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence.”

  Mature oaks spread their limbs wide over the surrounding underbrush, where someone had planted fruiting trees once. Knobby fruit tree trunks hung with dead and dying branches.

  “It appears no one tends the trees anymore, but there’s enough ripe fruit left for us to have a treat,” Tournak said.

  Twit put aside guard duty and busied himself with the insects attracted to the ripe fruit.

  No sooner had they eaten apples than Saxthor looked up. “What’s that?”

  “Sounds like a troop of orcs and their ogre commander, approaching the grove,” Bodrin said.

  “Hide behind those boulders there – high up, but still under the tree canopy beyond the pool,” Saxthor said. “We’ll be out of the orcs’ view but can still hear their plans from there. Maybe we can discover why there’re so many orcs traveling through Prertsten.”

  The orcs straggled into the grove, laughing and carrying chickens and slaughtered livestock in addition to their weapons.

  “Prince Pindradese won’t be doing nothing about it,” one orc said. “We’s keeping him safe on his throne. Plundering a village and a few farms won’t cause no stir.” The troop descended to the spring and filled their canteens.

  “Why ain’t we going to attack Feldrik Fortress?” an orc asked the ogre.

  “’Cause we ain’t wasting no time with Heggolstockin,” the ogre said. “We’s going down the Akkin to Sengenwha, hoping ain’t nobody gonna find us out.”

  “Why worry? There ain’t nobody around here to hear us,” the orc said. “All them Prertstenians has been sent back from the border. Even they can’t report where we’s going.”

  “Them Southerners is expecting us to attack Heggolstockin or Hador from Dreaddrac,” the ogre said. “They’ve done strengthened Hador. Since the attack on Feldrik, Graushdem has done sent its troops to the border forts along the Akkin in Heggolstockin. While they watches for us to hit there, we’s marching south through Prertsten, then through Sengenwha. We’s gonna seize Botahar on the Pundar River and divide their armies before they realizes the king’s plan. With us behind them cutting off their supplies, they’ll panic and surrender.”

  Hendrel flinched.

  “What’s that?” an orc asked. His hand went to his sword as he looked around him.

  “Just a possum,” the ogre said. “Don’t be so jumpy.”

  Having heard the conversation, Saxthor counted only about two dozen orcs in this band, plus the ogre. That’s many more than we can hope to engage in battle, he thought. We can’t risk discovery, but I want to wipe out this band, knowing what they plan.

  “Commander,” an orc said. “Someone’s just been here.”

  The ogre rushed over to the excited orc, “What do you mean? This area were evacuated.”

  “Well, someone done eat this apple.” The orc showed the ogre a core with human, not animal, bite marks.

  Saxthor was furious. I trained this band never to leave traces of their passage. Someone has slipped up when we first heard the orcs, he thought. They dropped the core and forgot it. Now the orcs will discover us. He looked to Bodrin, noting his hand gripped his sword.

  Astorax put his hand on Saxthor’s arm. Startled, he almost jumped. Saxthor turned to his friend. The deer-man was looking out through the tree branches. Saxthor followed Astorax’s line of sight and saw several dozen farmers approaching the oasis, brandishing their weapons. Saxthor motioned his band to stay down and hidden.

  “The orcs don’t see the farmers coming, do they?” Saxthor asked Astorax.

  Astorax shook his head, pointed to the orcs down by the spring, and moved his arm in an arc at the perimeter.

  “They didn’t post sentries,” Saxthor said, patting Astorax’s shoulder.

  One fierce, middle-aged farmer, in what looked to be his late thirties, directed the villagers by groups, stationing them just inside the woods. From what Saxthor could see, the farmer directed them to stay out of sight.

  This is funny, Saxthor thought. We’re here hiding from two separate opponents, hoping neither will discover us. The farmers are hiding, not knowing we’re watching them.

  When he looked at the others, they grinned back at him. They must be thinking the same thing, he thought. The ogre is agitated, examining the apple.

  “Somebody has eat on this here apple, for sure,” the ogre said. He looked about at the woods and then at his soldiers.

  He’s going to send his orcs to search the woods, Saxthor thought. I have to create a diversion. Saxthor threw a rock as hard as he could across the woods toward the entrance.

  An orc, standing close by, looked up at the sound and caught sight of the last farmers, moving in the woods.

  “Commander! There’s that farmer, what eat the apple.”

  The whole band of orcs rushed up the slope to attack.

  “Don�
��t let him get away,” an orc said, waving his sword.

  The orcs only see one farmer, Saxthor thought. That’s made them bold. They’ve abandoned discipline and order.

  The farmer saw someone spotted him, turned, ran from the woods, and back up the road.

  The ogre lost control of his troops but let them toy with their prey. “A reward for the orc that brings the farmer’s head back.” The ogre stopped laughing when the hidden farmers swarmed out of the bushes at the edge of the trees.

  “Those farmers aren’t soldiers, but all Prertstenians must be avid hunters and fighters to survive,” Tournak said to Saxthor. “They’re in groups of four to six; the orcs are all strung out.”

  “The farmers are used to hunting with bows and arrows,” Bodrin said. “Looks like they’re good at picking off orcs from a distance.”

  “The orcs’ swords are out of range,” Astorax said.

  An arrow shot wild, flew toward them, and bounced off Astorax antlers. He ducked down with the others. The farmers slaughtered all the orcs, leaving only the ogre.

  “The commander’s still in the woods, and he’s seen his command wiped out,” Tournak said. “Look there; he’s hiding, hoping to escape unnoticed. Those men must be the ones his band just robbed.”

  Saxthor held up his hand to Twit, watching the proceedings from the tree above. Twit flew down to Saxthor’s finger, and Saxthor pointed to the ogre commander. Twit flew to a bush, where the commander was hiding. He started fluttering and chirping over the commander’s head. Trying to silence the bird, the ogre grew frustrated and finally jumped up to shoo the wren away. The commotion caught a farmer’s attention.

  “Here’s another one!” The man called out. The others returned and took the cowering ogre prisoner. “He’ll pay for sacking our farms.”

  Wildly gesturing with pitchforks, clubs, bows, and arrows, the farmers left with their prisoner.

  “Once again, luck was with us,” Tonelia said.

  “Let’s get out of this area before more orcs or farmers come,” Saxthor said. “This place is too busy.”

  As they were about to leave, Saxthor caught a glimpse of a ripple in the afternoon sun streaming through the trees.

  It’s the sunlight playing on the shrubs beneath the branches, he thought. No, it’s an ornsmak.

  He caught it and held it in his hands to register that he was its intended recipient. Once he unlocked it, it displayed the message from Memlatec.

  I hope this message finds you – and your companions – safe and well. We received word from Graushdem and Hador of your valiant deeds. You’re gaining admirers wherever you go. Your mother is most pleased with your public persona, but she doesn’t know why you’re on this mission.

  General Sekkarian commands the Hoyahof; that fortress and the Talok Tower you warned us about are both back under our control. King Grekenbach knows of the threat and is aware of your band’s role in saving Feldrik Fortress. Duke Jedrac could neither thank you enough nor praise you too highly, for saving Hador. We’re following your exploits with pride.

  We’ve strengthened the garrisons from Favriana Fortress, north. We’ll have the armies prepared and our alliances established by the time you return home. We’ve even sent emissaries to Sengenwha, realizing we've neglected the longest of our northwestern borders.

  You must be especially careful in Prertsten. Prince Pindradese is unstable from years of fearing insurrection and the Dark Lord’s potential to annihilate him and his entire principality. Pindradese will strike at anything that might seem a threat. If he discovers you’re within his borders, he’ll use every means to find and destroy you. So close to Dreaddrac, the Dark Lord would stop at nothing to find you for what you’re carrying, too. Get in and out of Prertsten with all haste.

  As I dare not write to you again, I must tell you now; there’s a seventh ‘item’ in Sengenwhapolis that you must retrieve as well. It’s in the King’s palace. Use the Peldentak Wand and touch the Pool of Truth in the queen’s apartments, when you get there. It will show you what you seek.

  Take care and hurry back to Konnotan; there’s no time to lose.

  Saxthor wanted to say so much in the return ornsmak, but there wasn’t time. He limited his message to their location and the orcs’ conversation about their route and plan of attack.

  I hope this return message finds you, my parents, and all Neuyokkasin well. We’ve but a moment; I must be brief. We’re almost at Prertsten, the capital, and we should have that ‘item’ soon if all goes well.

  We encountered a troupe of orcs today and hid. They didn’t know we were there. They said the attack on Feldrik Fortress might’ve been a diversion as well as testing resistance. The orcs were heading down along the Akkin River through Prertsten. The plan was to then move through Sengenwha. If they could have passed through Sengenwha unobstructed, they’d have been in a position to cross the border on the Vos. From the border, they could’ve been in Heedra within a matter of days. We’ve no fortifications to resist an attack there, and the road to Konnotan would be open. Your emissary to Sengenwha may even have alerted them to your plans. I don’t know if Sengenwha is an ally of Dreaddrac, or if the king’s compliance is under duress, but you better prepare for a northwestern invasion in any case.

  Please convey our love to my parents and Bodrin’s.

  Saxthor allowed the new message to reform in the ornsmak, then sent it back to Memlatec. With his renewed sense of urgency, he prodded his companions to hurry. They moved along the edges of the scraggly forests and fields, hard-won from the thin rocky soil. The people of Prertsten were suspicious of the unfamiliar. Word of strangers in this land would spread quickly to the capital and then to Prertsten Palace.

  Bodrin found a stream, which the adventurers followed to a sizable creek, flowing toward the capital. They were able to move up through the wilderness along the creek unobserved and finally reached Prertsten unnoticed by the Prertstenians.

  “Perhaps I should remain here in the forest, while Saxthor enters the city,” Astorax said. “There’s just no inconspicuous way to sneak a half-deer half-man into the city.”

  They arrived at the capital and still had no plan for getting in and out, much less how to get in and out of the palace. Sitting around their campfire one night, the conversation dwindled to silence.

  “We’re thinking way too much about this, let’s at least have some entertainment,” Tonelia said. “Does anyone know any stories or tricks?”

  “Astorax,” Saxthor said, “you’ve not entertained us with your antics since Feldrik.”

  Tonelia hopped up and spun around with her back to the fire, her pleated skirt still spinning. Facing the men with her hands on her hips, she announced, “I have it!”

  “Have what?” Bodrin asked.

  “Well, the extraordinary plan for getting to the highest place in the city, of course.”

  “Let’s hear your plan,” Saxthor said.

  “If Astorax would forgive us misusing him, three of us could get into the city, and most likely into the palace, with the prince’s blessing, and by invitation.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Bodrin asked. “By invitation?”

  “Let’s listen to what she has to say,” Saxthor said.

  “I’d like to hear this one,” Tournak said. He propped his chin on his fist with his elbow on his knee and focused on Tonelia. Tonelia looked at Saxthor then at Tournak. She stuck out her tongue at Bodrin.

  “Yes, me too,” Astorax said, stepping over a log and sitting down on it somewhat uncomfortably. “I’d like to hear this since I’m involved in your plan.”

  “Now Astorax, you know we love you,” Tonelia said, looking straight into his eyes. “You’re one of us, but to the people that don’t know you, well, you’re an attraction.” She smiled affectionately at the loveable man with antlers.

  “Yes, well, do go on,” Astorax said. Saxthor saw the blush. “I know there’s a thorn on this rose.”

  “We could go to the city gat
es as a traveling curiosity show,” Tonelia said. “Astorax could act wild and vicious. Two men could restrain the ‘Fierce Beast of the Forests.’” Her imitation deep voice wasn’t convincing, but Saxthor got her point.

  “As entertainers, we could get into the city and work our way to the palace. If the act is good enough, we could offer to play for the prince and his court. With such an invitation, we could get into the palace, where Saxthor could slip away from the performance to find a tower.” She looked around the circle for a response. “Well?” She turned up her hands.

  “What if we don’t get an invitation to perform at the palace?” Tournak asked. “Then we’d be known in the city and probably watched too closely as strangers to get in after that.”

  “Astorax, what do you think of us making an exhibition of you as a curiosity?” Saxthor asked.

  Astorax was looking down, scratching in the soil with a stick. He looked up at each one there. “I’ve been a freak for years. If being one now means we achieve the goal, I can play the part. My friends, it’s not like you think I’m a freak, and it’s your opinions that count to me.”

  “Does anyone else have a better idea?” Tonelia asked.

  “It could work,” Bodrin said. “It’s not like we have another suggestion. Who’ll take the ‘Fierce Beast of the Forests’ into the city?”

  “I’ll go so we look non-threatening,” Tonelia said. “Saxthor has to go for his mission. Bodrin and Tournak, you should go to restrain the beast.”

  “I can go just as well as Tournak,” Hendrel said, volunteering.

  “Too many and we draw attention as potential trouble makers,” Tonelia said. She now turned and tossed a stick on the fire. The sparks flew up and died down.

  “Perhaps Bodrin looks too much like a warrior,” Astorax said. “Why not take Hendrel and Tournak to restrain me? They’re older and look more like old farmers trying to make a living as entertainers. Both are wizards, and so could be more useful if trouble starts.”

  “I like your thinking there, Astorax,” Saxthor said. He nodded and poked the fire.

  “Well, I don’t,” Bodrin said. “If Tonelia goes, I go.”

 

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