Judgment mtg-3

by Will McDermott

  Laquatas finally crashed into the clearing, nearly toppling forward as the dense, uneven forest gave way to the trampled moss. After a few final staggering steps, Laquatas came to a stop, rested his hands on his knees, dropped his head down, and gasped for air.

  "Problems, Ambassador?" asked a familiar voice.

  Laquatas looked up to see Traybor and several other Cabal mages lined up in front of him. Taking a couple deep breaths, the mer stood up, straightened his cloak, and struck a more dignified pose.

  "Excuse me, Master Traybor" he asked.

  "An odd time to be taking a stroll through the forest, Ambassador," said Traybor. "Many dangers lurk out there."

  Traybor was looking right at the spear still in the mer's hand. Laquatas glanced at the weapon, seeing the venom paste quite visible on the blade along with a sickly green goo that dripped from the bottom of the blade onto his gloved hand.

  "I was awoken by a premonition of danger," began Laquatas, tearing his eyes away from the blade to look at Traybor. "The beast was coming for you, so I made my way into the forest to try to stop him. As you can see I struck the beast with this blade, but it hardly slowed him down. I was lucky to escape with my life. He's out there right now. Come with me, Traybor. I'm sure together we can kill the beast."

  Laquatas doubted his ploy to get Traybor alone in the forest would work, but by the end of his story, his confidence had returned, and sometimes a bold move paid off.

  Not this time.

  "No thank you, Ambassador," said Traybor, folding his arms as he regarded Laquatas through his narrow eyes. "We'll handle the beast in our own way."

  The mer wasn't sure, but he could swear he saw Traybor's eyes flash black, which he knew was a precursor to the summoner's dementia magic. Laquatas decided not to press his luck against the throng of powerful, yet unbalanced, summoners. There would come a better time for disposing of Traybor and his brood.

  "Well, good night then," said Laquatas as he turned and headed back toward the Order side of the clearing. He wasn't sure if he'd gotten away with his lies or not and wanted very much to probe the mind of one of the lesser Cabal mages, but he didn't dare do it out in the open.

  He got his answer when he stepped into his tent. There, in ten-inch-tall, inky black letters that hung in the air over his cot, dripping on his wool blanket, Laquatas read: POISON ONLY WORKS ON THE LIVING, AMBASSADOR.

  Laquatas dropped the spear on the floor and rushed back out into the camp, but he was already too late. Half of the clearing was completely empty. The Cabal forces had vanished.

  CHAPTER 25

  Kamahl crouched in the tree, clutching the branch with his fingers and his toes. He'd abandoned his boots the day before, desiring more direct contact with the wood as he ran along limbs and swung from tree to tree on his journey toward the center off the forest. Below him, six nantuko moved swiftly and silently southward, never noticing the motionless, dirt-and-moss covered barbarian above them.

  It was the third patrol he'd seen heading south in the past two days. Kamahl knew his pursuers had entered the forest, that Laquatas was coming for him and for the Mirari. But Kamahl knew how to avoid the nantuko, and he knew that the mer was no match for the forest warriors. For the first time since he'd laid eyes on the Mirari, Kamahl was not worried about Laquatas.

  Kamahl remained motionless on his limb well after the nantuko patrol passed by, waiting for the other animals to return. Their senses were still far keener than his, and he had learned from experience over the last two days that it was not necessarily safe to move until the other animals returned.

  Twice, nantuko raiding parties had double-backed and spotted him when he moved. The second time he had remained motionless for an hour. His patience and his muscle control had grown immeasurably during the past few days.

  And yet, they had waited just as long. When the barbarian released his hold on the branch and fell to the forest floor, the raiders were on him in an instant, slashing at him with their razor-edged forearms and cutting him off as he tried to retreat. In that battle, Kamahl had been forced to disable two nantuko, breaking all four legs on one beast with a vicious leg sweep and dislocating the shoulders of another when the nantuko warrior struggled against the vines Kamahl had summoned to entangle the creature.

  After that battle, Kamahl realized he could not sense danger as well as small prey could. Each time the nantuko attacked, the barbarian now realized, the forest went quiet, and it was not until he was completely out of danger that he would begin to notice life returning around him-the chittering of squirrels, the buzzing of insects, the songs of birds. He then decided to wait until the sounds of the forest awoke before continuing his quest.

  And so Kamahl waited, crouched in the tree, barefoot and covered in mud, twigs, and leaves. He waited for the forest to revive, for danger to pass. Finally, a brown form moved through the leaves. The barbarian slowly raised his upper body until his back was up against the trunk of the tree, keeping his legs bent beneath him.

  It was only a squirrel on its way to look for nuts or on its way back home after foraging. Either way, it meant that the danger had passed. The forest, in its own way, was telling the barbarian it was time to move along. Confident that the patrol was gone, Kamahl moved off from his perch in the crook of the tree, running along the limb and springing as the branch began to bend under his weight. For a moment he floated through the air, his arms spread wide, feeling the rush of wind the squirrel must have felt as it glided through the trees.

  But the barbarian couldn't fly or glide and had to rely on his arms, legs, and magic to navigate the treetops. His perfectly timed jump sent him past a lower branch on the nearest tree, which Kamahl grabbed with both hands, allowing the momentum of his legs to swing him around and up to a handstand. Bending at the waist, the barbarian lowered himself onto the branch.

  Springing up to grab the next branch, Kamahl swung up onto that limb and then sprinted down its length and launched back into the air. As he began to fall, Kamahl shot his arm out and called forth a vine. The barbarian swung past the next tree and twenty feet higher into a tree beyond.

  After several hours of moving from tree to tree through the upper reaches of Krosan, Kamahl began to notice a subtle change in the forest. No longer did he have to spend so much time jumping directly from tree to tree. He could move greater and greater distances on the vines, for the trees were now growing farther and farther apart, leaving much more open space up in the bows.

  In fact, in many instances he had no choice but to swing from one tree to another. Where once the leaves from different trees intermingled at the ends of their branches, now it was rare that the barbarian could even make it safely from one tree to another without the help of magic.

  Kamahl leaned against the trunk of an oak and surveyed the forest, scanning his surroundings with both his eyes and his ears. Looking left and right, he noticed the trees nearly lined up like rows of wheat in the fields he and Balthor had ridden through on their trek to the forest. Were these trees planted long ago by the guardian? Did Thriss have some control over the plants as well as the animals? Kamahl did not know, but he was certain that this was not a natural occurrence. It looked more like a garden-a very large garden.

  The barbarian also noticed that it was much brighter than it had been in the outer parts of the forest. The conclusion was obvious-with fewer leaves, more light was getting through.

  Listening to the sounds of the forest, Kamahl noticed one final change. Where the denser, darker parts of the forest had, out of necessity, been governed by silence most of the time- for most of the larger predators hunted as much by sound as by scent-this lighter area was much more alive with the chittering of squirrels, the songs of birds, and the constant rustle of leaves as the small inhabitants moved freely in and around the trees, unconcerned about predators.

  Kamahl made a decision. It was time to leave the trees and make the last leg of his journey on foot. He had, over the last few days, turned into a wild
animal. With no one to talk to and the constant danger from nantuko and other large predators, the barbarian had become something feral-less human. Now he must regain his humanity and leave the trappings of the wild behind.

  Kamahl scrambled down the trunk of the large' oak tree, quickly descending the hundred feet between him and the floor of the forest. Kamahl slowly stood up to his full height, flexed his arms up over his head, and stretched out the muscles in his back. He then pulled off the vines he'd tied around his body and dropped them to the ground. Covered with mud and sweat, his feet and hands red and callused from days spent in the trees, and his hair disheveled and full of twigs, Kamahl knew he was still a sight to behold, a wild man from the deep woods.

  Looking down at the vines he dropped, Kamahl noticed that even the ground here was different from the wild portions of the forest. Moss and bushes had given way to ivy, flowers, and even grass. In the middle of the row of trees, the barbarian noticed something else-a well-traveled path heading straight north.

  For the first hour on the path, Kamahl remained tense, expecting an attack from behind every tree. But as every tree passed and another ambush didn't take place, he began to relax, to stretch out his tense muscles, to walk straighter and taller again.

  As Kamahl's tension eased, he began to enjoy the walk and spent more and more time gazing at the tamed wilderness around him. There were patterns in the ivy on the trees. The vines and leaves wove in and around each other to form loops, lines, and swirls that all worked together to create some intricate design the barbarian could not figure out.

  Even the flowers seemed to be placed in precise positions. Kamahl could see a panoply of colors lining the path in an intricate, alternating pattern of reds, blues, yellows, and purples. The patterns must mean something to someone, but Kamahl could not decipher what, perhaps because he could only see this one, small section. The meaning might become evident only if he could see the whole forest. Kamahl was now certain that the entire forest had been created by a gardener, albeit one who worked with trees as easily as flowers.

  Traveling down the path, wondering at the enormity of the work required to tend this garden, Kamahl suddenly came upon the heart of Krosan, never seeing the end of the path until it was upon him. He hadn't known what to expect when he started on this journey, and even Seton's reverence for the place hadn't prepared him for what he saw as he left the woods and entered the heart. Kamahl stepped into a huge clearing larger than all of Cabal City. That entire city, from the docks outside the east gate to the gently rolling hills rising up from the west gate would fit inside the heart of Krosan.

  Looking to the left and right at the tree line, Kamahl could see a gentle hint of a curve as the trees at the edge of the clearing arced ever so slightly around what Kamahl felt certain was a perfect circle. Looking up, Kamahl expected to see blue sky, which he had not seen since entering the forest several days earlier. Instead, he was surprised to see that the entire clearing was still covered by leaves high overhead.

  Huge trees dotted the clearing, spaced hundreds of feet apart. The trees that grew perfectly straight, high up into the sky, with no foliage until the very top. There, these amazing trees sprouted long branches in every direction, looking like hundreds of spokes on a wagon wheel. The thousands of wide leaves that grew out of these branches made a roof over the clearing that kept the heart secluded from the outside world, yet allowed light and water to trickle down to the idyllic garden that spread out in front of Kamahl.

  Then something made Kamahl's body tense. Between two of the pillar trees that held up the roof of the heart, the barbarian saw a group of nantuko. Kamahl couldn't tell what the mantis creatures were doing, but he didn't think they'd seen him yet.

  There was only open ground between the barbarian and the nantuko. He could slip back into the trees and try another route into the heart, but something inside told Kamahl to proceed, so he willed his body to relax and strode forward, keeping a close eye on the nantuko as he moved.

  The mantis group didn't seem concerned about the approaching barbarian. Kamahl was certain one or two of them had glanced his way as he walked up the path, but they were busy working and seemed indifferent.

  Once Kamahl got closer, he could see what had them so preoccupied. They were working the land. One mantis was guiding a stream of water through the air to a point above the plants where it sprayed onto the ground in a fine mist. Kamahl could not see the source of the water. It seemed to magically appear in the air and went where the nantuko gestured.

  Another mantis was standing by a dry area, seemingly clawing at the air. At first Kamahl could not determine what it was doing. But then he saw small claw marks being etched into the dirt beside the nantuko. As the magical, unseen claws raked the ground, they uprooted and dislodged weeds that were choking off the rows of what Kamahl could see now were bean, carrot, and tomato plants.

  The other two nantuko were busy picking through the plants to find the ripest vegetables, which they gently plucked from the vines.

  I guess some things just can't be done by magic, thought Kamahl as he watched the gardeners tend to their plot. The baskets at the feet of the two pickers seemed to scuttle along the ground of their own accord, though, always staying just behind the nantuko as they moved from plant to plant.

  Kamahl could see many other garden plots dotting the clearing in this outer ring, many of which were tended by mantis gardeners. Ahead, small grass huts surrounded the pillar trees near the gardens.

  Are these gardeners as deadly as their cousins? wondered Kamahl. He didn't want to find out.

  Past the huts lay the true splendor of the heart. A series of huge, wide steps, several hundred feet deep that spanned from pillar tree to pillar tree and encircled one another, rising up toward the largest tree, which towered over the very center of the clearing. As Kamahl began his ascent, he could see the steps were actually the root systems of the trees, risen up above the ground and intertwined with one another to form a rough, flat surface a foot above the ground.

  Upon the steps were the true homes of the nantuko. Huts made of vines, thick brush, and small trees rose up from the steps. Some of these homes were quite intricate and much larger than Seton's one-room dwelling near the edge of the forest. Just ahead and to the side, Kamahl could see one that consisted of three huts interconnected to form a trefoil, with another single-room hut sitting on top, forming a second level. A tunnel of briars connected this second level to another trefoil home on the next step.

  Standing on the first step, Kamahl heard the sound of branches and vines moving out of the way to form a door into one of these living houses. A nantuko stepped out, coming right toward him.

  Kamahl crouched down and brought his amis up as his instincts told him to prepare to fight or run. But the nantuko wore a long robe made of leaves, vines, and bark interwoven into a delicate pattern that reminded Kamahl of the clothing worn by his friend Seton. This nantuko appeared to be a druid, not a warrior. Kamahl forced his muscles to relax.

  "Blessed evening, Kamahl of the Pardic Mountains" said the nantuko druid in its clicking voice, as it bowed low in front of Kamahl. "Thriss has been expecting you. Please follow me."

  CHAPTER 26

  Laquatas stared at the empty space where the Cabal summoners had been camped just moments before, an unknown and unwelcome emotion welling up inside him. The mer was getting desperate. In the course of just a few days, he'd lost Burke, Talbot, his mer troops, and now half of the coalition he'd brokered to pick up the pieces. And he had nothing to show for it. He was no closer to the Mirari now than he had been when he still had all his tools, all his power.

  Chaos erupted around him in the Order camp as guards raised the alarm about the missing Cabal summoners. The soldier's voices brought the mer out of his spiraling depression. They were all he had left. And if he didn't act quickly he would lose them as well.

  "Guard!" he barked at the nearest soldier. "Bring the sergeant to my tent. We must find out what's ha
ppened here! Go!"

  After a slight delay, the soldier ran off. He stormed back into his tent. With a wave of his hand he erased the dripping, black message. He then grabbed the poison-tipped spear, concentrated on the ground to open up a small portal to the waterways beneath the forest, and dropped the spear into the portal. The liquid blue gateway snapped shut just as Laquatas heard the sergeant approaching. He still had no idea what to say to the sergeant about the Cabal.

  "Sergeant. Come in," called out Laquatas. "What in the seas happened out there tonight, Sergeant? Where are the Cabal forces? What did your men do?"

  The sergeant stopped just inside the tent flap, taken aback by the immediate barrage. "I-I don't know, sir," he stammered. "My men woke me just moments ago when it happened. I haven't had time to question them, sir."

  "Well, find out, soldier!" barked Laquatas. "I want your report at sunrise. Then we can assess the damage to this mission." "Yes, sir."

  The sergeant turned on his heels and left the tent to go yell at his men and probably bash some heads. It was the natural order of things, thought Laquatas. You get beat up by your superior, you take it out on your subordinates. It'll be good for them. Keep them tough and ready to fight and die for the cause. I'll need that tomorrow.

  Laquatas knew that the sergeant wouldn't uncover any of the mer's involvement in the evening's escapades. None of the guards who saw Laquatas leave or return to the camp would be able to recall those memories. But the investigation would give the mer time to produce a plausible explanation and, more importantly, a plan for moving forward without the Cabal.

  "Desperation?" said the mer to himself. "Hah. Even without the Mirari or Burke or my empire, I'm still the most powerful mage on Otaria. Once I have the orb, I will destroy all who have stood in my way."

  *****

  The beast watched the chaos in the Order camp and was pleased to know it had played some small part in breaking up the coalition. But it was dismayed at how easily Laquatas had escaped. The mer was simply too fast for the creature. It needed a weapon, preferably something it could throw at the blue-skinned demon to slow him down.