Judgment mtg-3

by Will McDermott

  Eesha dropped into her chair and buried her face in the crook of her wing, exhausted from the mental and verbal battles she had fought all morning. When she looked up she saw Dinell, still standing at attention in front of her desk.

  "So, how did it go, ma'am?" he asked again. "What are our orders?"

  "The meeting went about as well as we expected," said Eesha. She quickly rearranged the figures on her map, placing most of the white warriors in a classic wedge formation at the edge of the forest with the smaller squad of black figures in a loose group behind the safety of the wedge. "Our troops will cut a wide swath into the forest, while the Cabal raiders provide support from the safety of our rear. Laquatas will be safely tucked in the middle."

  "We have to march into that… that jungle with the Cabal at the ready to stab us in the back?" asked Dinell.

  "It's not quite as bad as that," replied Eesha, taking the rest of the white figures and placing them in rows behind the Cabal group. "Your division will guard the rear, to protect their mages, of course."

  "And to protect our own troops from their mages," added Dinell. "Braids agreed to this?"

  "She knows we will uphold our end of the bargain," said esha. "We are the Order. We honor our agreements."

  "And where will you be stationed?" asked Dinell, looking at the formation. "Surely you don't intend to expose yourself in the front?"

  "No," replied Eesha. "Do not worry about my safety, Lieutenant. I plan to fly back to the Citadel to bring back reinforcements. We will abide by the agreement and not turn on our new allies. But once we have the aven mages we need, we can finish this campaign by ourselves and leave the fate of our Cabal friends to the forest."

  "Does Laquatas know you plan to return to the Citadel for reinforcements?"

  "Yes," said Eesha. "He actually encouraged it. Said that if we have to turn this campaign into an all-out war against the forest, we'll need every warrior the Order can offer."

  "At least he understands our value," said Dinell. "Perhaps he can be trusted after all."

  "I still have my doubts," said Eesha as she unbuckled her sword belt and placed the crystal sword of leadership on the table. "That negotiation was too easy. I believe the mer wants me out of the way to make it easier for him to exert control over our forces. But I will beat him at his own game. Before I leave I will officially place you in command of the Order forces. You will cany the crystal sword as a symbol to our troops. Laquatas will find it very hard to exert influence over our warriors while you carry the sword."

  Dinell straightened his back even further and saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

  *****

  "Good morning, my friend," said Seton as he nudged Kamahl's shoulder with his hoof. "The forest is awake, and so should you be. Come, I have prepared a meal for you."

  Kamahl rolled off the pile of furs, stood up, and raised his hands above his head, stretching his arms backward until he heard a loud succession of pops. He had not slept that well or that long for quite some time, and the aches of many months had finally settled into his body. A hearty breakfast and a good, long run. That's what he needed. That's what Balthor would have called for on a morning such as this.

  As the barbarian's thoughts turned to his stalwart dwarf friend, he remembered Jeska as well and went to her side. The operating table had turned into a cot, and she seemed to rest peacefully. Kamahl reached out his hand to brush an auburn lock from her face and was surprised to find her skin warm, not burning hot. Her face was no longer flushed. In fact, it seemed almost too pale, and her hands were actually cool.

  "Is she… Will she be all right?" Kamahl asked as he turned to face Seton.

  "I have done all that I can," said Seton. "Now it is up to Jeska. She will live, or she will die. Either way, the choice is hers to make. I have removed the fire that was consuming her. Whether there is enough left of her will to return, we will know in time. Now she must rest."

  Kamahl walked over to the table where Seton stood, eating nuts and berries from a bowl. The barbarian concentrated on the floor and raised up a crude-looking chair of brambles and vines and then, gingerly, took a seat at the table.

  "I don't remember you talking in such riddles when we met in the pits," said the barbarian as he filled his own bowl with nuts.

  "The byproduct of a contemplative life I'm afraid," replied Seton. "With no one to talk to for weeks on end, I tend to start talking much like I think. Phrases, sentences, words come out in a jumble as my mind races ahead of my mouth. I apologize."

  "I never saw you as the contemplative type," said Kamahl as he crunched down on a nutshell to get to the meat inside.

  "That was another person you met in the pits," said Seton. "I played the part I was assigned at the time. This is the real Seton you see here today. I have given my life to Thriss and spend my days serving the forest."

  "Then why did you leave the forest to enter the pit battles?" asked Kamahl.

  "It was the will of Thriss," replied Seton. "When the orb appeared, Thriss could feel its power. I was sent to determine its nature and, if need be, fight for it. I failed to retrieve the orb, but Thriss has watched you and the progress of the orb for a long time. He believes it is in good hands now."

  "Well, I don't believe that," said Kamahl dropping the shards of his nutshells back in his bowl and pushing it away from him. "Look at what I did to my sister-what I almost did to my people. I don't want it anymore. I want to bury it in a deep, dark hole."

  "I know," said Seton. "That is why Thriss believes you to be the proper wielder of the orb. You are the only person to have ever rejected its power."

  "I will not wield it," said Kamahl, stomping his fist on the table. "So your Thriss, whoever he may be, will just have to find another champion."

  "The storm is coming, Kamahl," said Seton, cryptic again. "You can either face it with knowledge or run from it in ignorance. Either way, your path lies through the heart of the forest, through the domain of Thriss."

  "What in Fiers's name is that supposed to mean?" said Kamahl. "Who is this Thriss, anyway?"

  "Thriss is the spirit of the forest," said Seton as he clomped around the table back toward Jeska. "The guardian, if you will."

  Seton grasped the sword, which he'd stowed in a natural sheath in the wall. Backing up and turning to face Kamahl once again, he brought it over to the barbarian.

  "You will find Thriss in the heart of the forest itself-in the sacred grove. And that is where you must go, whether you wish to bury the Mirari or embrace it as the champion of the forest."

  "What about Jeska?" asked Kamahl.

  "I will care for her," said Seton holding the sword out to Kamahl once again. "She needs rest and nutrition, both of which I can provide for her. She will be fine, my friend. She is strong willed. I will take care of her. You must take care of yourself, and for that you need Thriss. I cannot help you here."

  "Fine," said Kamahl. He took the sword. "I will go see your guardian spirit, but I promise nothing. I will bury this sword in the ground and return for my sister. I am no champion."

  "That is your choice and your path to find," said Seton. "But remember one thing as you journey into the heart. The cycle of life is sacred and must not be broken. Predators kill to survive and prey only lives on when consumed."

  "More riddles," grumbled Kamahl. "Great."

  The barbarian moved to the wall and opened the doorway to the forest, but turned back to his friend. "One last thing, Seton."

  "Yes, my friend?"

  "When you looked into the Mirari, what did you see?"

  "The heart."

  "Yours or the forest's?"

  "Both."

  *****

  "When do we enter the forest?" asked Traybor as he walked beside Braids through the Cabal camp.

  "At first light tomorrow," came the reply, but Traybor could tell by the way Braids looked straight forward as she talked, and by the swirling cloud surrounding her forehead, that she was not completely in this con
versation.

  Perhaps she was conversing with the First. Perhaps she was just having some fun with her own personal demons. He did not know. Wherever the summoner was right now, it was not in the abal camp on the edge of the Krosan forest, and he would just have to wait for her to return to get his answers. Traybor continued to walk beside Braids as she wove through the camp toward her tent. Her mouth moved, but he could not hear her words. just outside her tent, the cloud lifted back above her head, and Braids's eyes cleared. "You had a question Traybor?" she asked.

  "Yes, ma'am," said Traybor. "If we wait until morning to begin our hunt for the barbarian, he will be two full days ahead of us. Shouldn't we enter the forest now, tonight?"

  "The Order troops are afraid of the dark," she replied. "They wish to wait until daylight. I can't say I blame them. Krosan is a forbidding and dark place even in the full light of day. Keep your senses trained on the trees for attacks while you are in there. And don't worry about the barbarian. Nobody can move quickly through Krosan. You will catch him."

  "I will? Where will you be?"

  "The First requires my presence," replied Braids. "Some new developments must be discussed. I can't say more."

  "The empress? Laquatas? The Order? What?"

  "I can't say more," said Braids. "But beware of Laquatas while you are in the forest. He will try to betray us-us and the Order. That much you can always count on with that sea snake. You have my authority to deal with him as you wish if he turns on the Cabal."

  "And the Order?"

  "They are not our concern… yet."

  Braids pulled back the flap to her tent but turned back to Traybor before she entered. "Has my gift to Laquatas been delivered?"

  "It awaits you in the back of your tent," replied Traybor smiling. "Isolde's unit brought it in this morning while you were in conference with the hawk and the snake. They secured it last night as you instructed."

  "Excellent," said the summoner, her cloud sinking down over her head once again. "Then I have work to do before I leave. Make sure I am not disturbed this evening."

  Traybor nodded and turned around as the flap dropped back behind Braids. He would stand guard himself, he decided.

  CHAPTER 22

  Kamahl ran back through the forest to the spot where he'd met Seton the day before. He was surprised to find that the straight route back was less than a thousand yards. The night before it had taken him an hour to follow the centaur to his grove. Using his newfound power to control vegetation, Kamahl re-grew broken branches and trampled moss to mask his passage to and from Seton's home.

  Kamahl then raised his hands over his head and brought forth a summoning circle, easily eight feet in diameter. Out of the swirling vortex stepped two horses-exact duplicates of the mounts he'd left at Seton's cottage. He tied the two horses together, mounted the lead horse, and crashed off through the forest away from Seton's grove. Being careful not to destroy any plants, the barbarian and his summoned mounts left a distinct trail that should be easy for his enemies to follow.

  After an hour of planting the false trail, the barbarian rode his summoned mount underneath a large tree, grabbed an overhanging branch, and pulled himself free of the horse as it trotted on. Swinging himself up onto the branch, Kamahl gave the magical mount one last mental command and watched from his perch as it crashed off into the woods.

  "By the time that trail suddenly stops, Laquatas will have no idea where to even start looking for me," said the barbarian to himself as he gingerly walked the branch back to the trunk of the large oak tree. "Now to put some distance between my real trail and the false one."

  Spreading his arms to produce another summoning circle, Kamahl concentrated on Emerald, his old gecko mount, and summoned a replica. The gecko pushed its head and forelegs through the vortex, grabbed the tree trunk with its sticky toes, and climbed the tree until its tail slipped through the circle. It hung there, clinging to the oak tree in front of Kamahl, its tongue snaking in and out of its mouth to smell the air for danger.

  With one hand petting the gecko's head, Kamahl raised his other hand, spread his fingers, and uttered a simple spell to spray a sticky goo out of his fingertips onto the gecko's back. Grabbing a limb above him, Kamahl swung onto the gecko, immediately adhering to the goo.

  Kamahl and his new mount moved from tree to tree, ascending and descending as needed to find strong limbs that could support their double weight. They headed north, toward the center of the forest, toward the heart.

  Kamahl had yet to see any of the large predators he and Chainer had fought on their previous excursion into the forest. "We must still be in the purified zone," he said to his mount.

  "From the warnings I got from Seton, I had thought this trip would be more perilous."

  The gecko leaped from one tree to another, almost two hundred feet up in the air, as something large and brown slashed by Kamahl from below, leaving two deep gashes in the side of the gecko. As his summoned mount dissipated underneath him, Kamahl plunged through the branches toward the forest floor.

  Kamahl tried to summon a rawk as he plummeted but lost the vortex when he caught a limb full in the stomach, which knocked the wind out of him and broke his concentration. Still falling and bouncing off branches, Kamahl knew he must slow his descent.

  Summoning mana into the palm of his hand, Kamahl sent a bolt of energy toward the tree, causing the rapid growth of a thick, tangled vine that snaked back along the beam to his hand and wrapped itself around his wrist. Grabbing the vine with both hands, Kamahl held on as the vine snapped taut, stretching it and his biceps nearly to their breaking point.

  Both the vine and the barbarian's grip held fast, and Kamahl began to arc toward the tree. As he neared the trunk, Kamahl twisted his body to the side and bent his legs to absorb the impact. The barbarian used his momentum to swing back up and away from the tree where he'd been attacked, landing on a branch only twenty feet below where he'd begun his descent.

  Kamahl crouched on die branch and looked for his attacker, attuning his other senses to the forest. He felt the movement before he saw the camouflaged attacker flash around the trunk of the tree, swinging its long arms at Kamahl's chest.

  Kamahl back flipped away from the attack, curling his toes around the branch to stabilize himself for a counterattack as he lit on his feet farther down the limb. He faced what he could only describe as an eight-foot-tall preying mantis, although it was difficult to see it against the backdrop of the forest. Its plated thorax, tail, and claws were the color of the tree trunk, while its long limbs and neck were the deep green of oak leaves. The mantis warrior walked easily on the branch, shifting its weight evenly across four clawed feet that dug into the branch. As it slowly moved forward, obviously testing the barbarian's boundaries, the mantis raised its amis, baring both its razor-sharp claws and the serrated knifelike ridges on its forearm.

  "Do not come any closer. I do not wish to fight you," said Kamahl, raising his own arms up in what he hoped looked like a peaceful gesture, but to a position that also gave him many more options should an attack come.

  "Leave Krosan, human," said the mantis warrior in a clipped voice that sounded like two sticks being rapped together. "Leave Krosan… or die."

  "I have other plans," said Kamahl, who sincerely did not want to fight and probably kill the warrior. Instead, he dived off the side of the branch, still holding the vine in his hand. The barbarian swung down toward the forest floor then back up. He released the vine and tried to land on another branch.

  Overbalancing as he landed, Kamahl sprawled forward onto the branch and hugged the wood with his arms and legs. A slight vibration in the tree made him look up. From his prone position, Kamahl could see four sets of brown claws dug into the branch in front of him. Hearing a whoosh of air, Kamahl rolled over and off the thick branch to avoid the serrated elbows of the mantis warrior.

  Instead of falling, though, Kamahl caught the branch with his hands. The barbarian kicked his body to the side and curl
ed his torso around the branch to strike the mantis's legs with his own feet, kicking the creature off the branch.

  As the warrior fell, it slashed at Kamahl again but missed the barbarian and hit the branch instead, cutting through the thick wood as easily as it had sliced through the gecko's soft flesh. Suddenly, Kamahl was falling again, with a huge mantis raking its claws at him from below. Kamahl shot his arm out to create another vine and swung away from the falling mantis, sorry for the loss of such a fine warrior but unable to help a beast who seemed so intent on killing him.

  Deciding it would be safer to face the perils of the forest on the ground, Kamahl poured mana into his vine and extended its length. Grabbing a branch on a passing tree, he slid down toward the ground, keeping his eyes on the treetops for signs of his pursuer.

  The large barbarian dropped the last ten feet to the moss-covered ground and was immediately surrounded by six mantis warriors. Two of the creatures stepped aside to let another mantis enter the circle. This one limped, noted Kamahl, not putting any weight on one of its four legs-the same leg Kamahl had kicked high up in the trees.

  "Who are you?" asked Kamahl, amazed by the tracking and fighting ability of the creatures. An army of these bugs could easily defeat any of the other factions on Otaria.

  "We are the natuko," clicked the leader as he limped around the circle of his warriors. "The guardians of Krosan."

  "I have no quarrel with you," said Kamahl. "I am a friend of the forest."

  "No outsider is a friend," said the nantuko leader. "You have fought and killed in the forest before. Why should we trust you now?"

  "I was sent by the druid Seton," replied Kamahl as he scanned the forest for some means of escape.

  "Seton has no authority over us," said the leader, still pacing around Kamahl. "Leave now."

  As the leader limped around him, Kamahl noticed something strange. All of the nantuko seemed to be following the leader's movement and only looked at Kamahl when he turned his head or lifted an arm. The barbarian wondered if, in the ever-changing colors of the forest, the bugs saw motion more than color and light.