The Druid's Guise: The Complete Trilogy (The Druid's Guise Trilogy)

by Michael J Sanford

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  FIVE DAYS PAST Wyatt’s original estimate they drew within view of the bog. It was not the bog itself that they saw first, but the towering shadow of a castle set against the clear sky. Grenleck chirped excitedly and dug his sharp nails into Wyatt’s neck as they crested a gentle grassy slope and caught sight of the distant gray parapets.

  It was only a tiny smudge on the horizon, just visible above a hazy veil, but it put forth an intimidating aura. The bog itself swept far and wide from the castle. Thick murky sludge shifted and bubbled amid deformed trees and tufts of grass. By nightfall they had reached its edge. The spongy ground abruptly fell away into a thick miasma of muck and fog at the edge of the bog, and the air grew thick and humid. The moons cast the drifting fog in bright light, obscuring any view of the distant castle or a way of reaching it.

  “We have to find a way to that castle,” Wyatt said as they studied the murk. Something was pulling him there, though he knew not what.

  Rozen found a long branch and poked the shifting brown liquid. The surface resisted at first, but then hungrily pulled at the branch, yanking it from Rozen’s hand and swallowing it with a soft belch.

  “Uh, so, Gren,” Wyatt said. “How do we get across the bog?”

  Grenleck chirped, swung down from his perch and darted across the bog’s surface. The tiny creature glided across the top of the mud, fog swirling around his tiny body, and turned back, bidding them to follow. Gareck chuckled.

  “Don’t think that muck will hold us, Gren,” Gareck said. “Best we find another way.”

  “Aye,” said Mareck. “There should be a path that cuts through the center, passing straight through the city. The only path to the northern realms. I’ve heard traders speak of it, though only briefly, so I can’t say where it begins.”

  They looked collectively to one side and then the other. Rozen grabbed Wyatt’s shoulder. “What do you think, Master?”

  Wyatt gave her a smile and stiffened. “This way,” he shouted suddenly and began walking west. You are such a liar, he thought and grimaced, a feeling of guilt flitting through his body.

  Rozen skipped alongside him and whispered, “You don’t really know where we’re going do you?”

  Wyatt glared at her, but couldn’t help but smile at the grinning Draygan. He shrugged. “The Mother will guide us, right?”

  “You better hope so,” she said. “What are we looking for here, anyway?”

  “A giant toad,” he said and immediately felt foolish. A giant toad? That’s my plan?

  Grenleck chirped and shadowed the group as they walked, dashing about the surface of the bog as if it were no different that stone. The bog bubbled and gasped in the calm night and the fog thickened with each step, soon forming a twisting wall of gray, obscuring the treacherous footing below.

  “Should we be traveling at night, Master Wyatt?” Mareck called from behind.

  “Aye, perhaps it’d be best to look for the path when the sun is above us,” Gareck chimed in, his jovial voice showing a slight hint of doubt. Or is he scared?

  “No,” Wyatt said suddenly, feeling possessed. “The moons are plenty bright enough. We’ll just follow the edge until we find it. Then we can rest.”

  “You sure?” Rozen said. “This fog is like a wall.”

  Wyatt shot her a stern look, but saw that she was smiling, her golden eyes jumping in the moonlight. “Trust me,” he said, to which she nodded.

  The moons were very nearly at their peak, a scant length between them, when Grenleck began shrieking loudly from the fog. The party halted, and covered their ears.

  “Gren, shut it!” Wyatt bellowed into the wall of gray.

  Grenleck shrieked again and burst from the fog, a small wisp of gray following as he raced to Wyatt’s leg and tugged sharply on the hem of his habit. The tiny imp chirped and pointed into the fog excitedly and attempted to pull Wyatt toward it.

  “We can’t walk on that mud like you can, Gren. You want us to be swallowed whole?”

  Grenleck ignored him and dashed into the fog again only to reappear a moment later to chirp at them. Wyatt sighed and resumed his westward march, but Rozen went to the edge of the fog and pulled her cloak to the side, fanning the fog with wide sweeps of her arm. The fog parted and fled from the waving cloak and Rozen took a step forward. And then another. And another.

  “Master,” she called haughtily. “I think it’s this way.”

  Rozen stood a dozen yards into the swamp, swirling her cloak about her and revealing solid ground beneath her feet. The path was even and smooth, compacted soil and crushed stone. Wyatt eyed her critically for a moment, seething that he had not discovered the path first.

  “Oh, thank the Mother,” called Gareck and let his hammer and pack slide to the ground.

  “Aye, Dear. We may have to sleep above ground tonight, for I feel wasted,” Mareck said as she slumped to the ground, propped up against her pack.

  Rozen grinned and held her hands out to her sides in victory as Grenleck chortled and raced about her. Soon she fell to laughter and the smooth fog once again crept over the path and swallowed the pair of incorrigible creatures.

  Wyatt thought to yell something to her but a sharp horn blast silenced his thoughts. Ahooooooooo. The throaty warble cut through the fog and chased both Rozen and Grenleck to Wyatt’s side. Gareck and Mareck jumped to their feet, white eyes wide. Two more long blasts pierced the calm night. Ahooooooooo Ahooooooooo. It seemed to come from further along the hidden path, deep in the fog, from the direction of the castle.

  “That doesn’t sound natural,” Wyatt said and took a slow step back.

  “What do you suppose that is, Darling?” Gareck whispered.

  “Don’t suppose I know, Dear, but it makes me right nervous. Tsk tsk.”

  Again, the horn sounded, much closer this time. Ahoooooooo. Wyatt shifted nervously and tightened his grip on the tall, gnarled staff at his side. Something approached from the fog and it drew closer with each passing moment, but no one dared flee. Five sets of eyes fixed on the smoke screen before them, waiting.

  A toad croaked nearby. Rozen shot Wyatt a quick glance. That was too loud and too close to be a normal toad. He sensed the great beast before he saw it, lumbering in disjointed steps through the smoky fog, dark and imposing. Just like my dream, he thought as the shadow emerged from the path and Mareck gasped.

  Wyatt didn’t have enough time to examine the giant amphibian before a wide net caught the moonlight and descended on him and Rozen. A second cast from the gloom and ensnared the Children. Grenleck chirped and slipped through a narrow gap in the net and slipped away into the fog. The weight of the knotted rope dragged them to the ground and twisted about their limbs, rendering them immobile. Wyatt managed to roll onto his back and found he was staring up at the underside of a giant toad. It glistened in the moonlight and towered over him, nearly the size of an elephant. Its great maw opened, dark and wet, as it let out another croak.

  Two more toads emerged from the fog and Wyatt found it curious how they moved. They seemed every bit the toads he knew, save for their size, yet they crept along like any other four-legged beast. It looked queer to see a toad move in such a way as their front legs were far shorter than their back and Wyatt found his mind wandering away from whatever danger they may be in as he studied the massive creatures.

  Dark figures glided off the slippery backs of the toads and approached the netted party, wielding thin spears with sharp metal points. They ride those things? Wyatt thought as the first barbed tip thrust toward his face. He recoiled against the net and pushed into Rozen who was crouched behind him.

  Wyatt could see six figures crowding around them. They ride two at a time, Wyatt found himself thinking, despite the spear point in his face. Away from the fog, the moonlight burned bright and illuminated the figures in vibrant white light. They looked like bears, dense brown fur covering them from head to foot. It took Wyatt a moment to realize that they were wearing furs. Even
their heads were wrapped in bushy brown, revealing only their eyes. They shone like dark bottomless pools, remarkably round and clearly larger than a human’s.

  One of the men, if they were truly men, leaned forward over Wyatt, one mitten clad hand on his spear, the other adjusting the fur at his face. He looks cold, Wyatt thought, though the damp night air felt comfortable to him and he was clad only in linen wrappings and an ill-fitting habit.

  “Who are you?” said the great bear, his voice airy and indignant. It sounded male, but Wyatt knew that meant little in Hagion. “And why have you come to our bog?”

  It seemed everyone was looking at Wyatt, friend and foe alike, and so he cleared his throat and did his best to sound like a proper Druid, whatever that meant. “I am Wyatt the Mighty, a powerful Druid, and these are my companions.”

  The great bear looked to his companions and then back to Wyatt. “A Druid, you say? You do not seem to be very mighty beneath our nets. Why have you come here and why do you claim to be a Druid when you are clearly a common slave?”

  “Why doesn’t anyone believe me?” Wyatt bellowed far louder than he had intended. “I am a Druid and these are my friends and we come here to your bog because… well, because I said so.” He decided that sounded more authoritative than claiming to have dreamed of being swallowed by a giant toad. One of the toads croaked loudly, the skin of its throat ballooning and its mouth opening to reveal lines of flat teeth.

  “Uh, sir, if I may,” said Gareck. “We don’t mean you any harm or disrespect. You see, Wyatt there is a Druid and well, we are here because the Mother has called him to this place.”

  “You lie as well, Child?”

  Wyatt sighed. He would have to once again prove his legacy. He fished under his habit and brought out his pendant. “Here’s your proof,” he shouted, causing the towering bear-man to turn.

  He stared at the swinging gemstone, which glowed in the moonlight, bright and piercing against its wood setting. He gestured wildly at his comrades. “Cygnus, Dorado, quickly. Free the Master and his companions. We have erred.”

  Two of the furred creatures shifted into motion, quickly working to untangle the nets. Wyatt stood and brushed off his robes in a show of indignation and retrieved his thorn staff. “That’s better,” he said haughtily.

  The bear-man bowed, as did the rest of the fur clad party. “Please, Master, forgive our lack of faith. Never did I think to see a Druid in my lifetime. My name is Horologium and I would be ever pleased to personally escort you to the High Keeper, where I am certain reparations can be made.”

  Wyatt stood tall. “Pray, please do,” he said, trying to sound as proper and dignified as he could.

  Horologium nodded and motioned to his subordinates. Elaborate saddles were lashed to the green and brown creatures, covering the entirety of their backs in curved brown leather emblazoned with fanciful designs. One of the toads croaked softly and flattened itself to the ground, limbs splayed to the sides.

  Horologium and his counterparts leapt deftly onto the backs of the toads, grasping rope tethers and motioned for Wyatt to follow. He looked to Rozen who had drawn her hood and seemed reluctant to move, but the Children had already moved to separate toads and were scrambling up the slimy backs, using their claws in the soft leather saddles to hoist themselves up. The toads croaked and wriggled upright. Only Horologium’s remained on the ground. The shrouded bear-man gestured again to the curved leather behind him.

  “Come, Master, a hot meal and soft bed await you at the keep. You shall all be our honored guests. The High Keeper will be ever pleased, I assure you.” His voice was strong and clear.

  Wyatt looked to Rozen again, trying to decipher her expression, but her hood cast her face in shadows. Is she scared? He turned back to the giant toad and the pair of fur clad creatures atop it. His stomach growled noisily. He clutched it, his mind made up.

  It took three efforts to climb into the saddle and in the end Rozen had to shove him from behind to get him aboard the slimy creature. When he was upright and seated, the dark warrior leapt into position behind him. The awkward creature rose and began to waddle into the fog, the others close behind. Numerous handles, straps, and ropes lined the saddle, but Wyatt soon felt long slender arms wrap about his midsection and the unmistakable warmth of a fire braided head lean against his shoulder.

  They traveled in silence for a time, but there was little to see but walls of fog and nothing to listen to but the constant gurgling of the bog. His stomach growled in tune with the bubbling swamp and his mind soon wandered.

  “Hey, Whore-gee-”

  Horologium cut off Wyatt’s attempt with a stiff laugh. “You may call me ‘Horo’ if it pleases you, Master.”

  Wyatt felt his face flush, but knew there was no one to see it. “Horo then, what are you?”

  Horo laughed politely and turned his head to speak over his fur lined shoulder. “We are the Astronians. You are young, yes?”

  Wyatt grunted. “Young?”

  “Forgive me, Master. I did not mean to offend. It is only that you seem to have no knowledge of us. That is strange for a Druid. Should you not know all, just as the Mother does?”

  “Uh, well, what do you know of Druids?”

  Horo’s voice softened. “Yes, you are correct, Master. I know very little of your kind. We are told stories as children, but a true Druid as not been seen in many generations. Forgive me, your arrival has taken me by surprise. I should have heeded the words of the Blind Seers. That is my shame.”

  “Blind Seers?” Gareck called from the rearmost toad.

  “It is strange to see Children this far from their home, as well,” Horo continued, ignoring the question. “And a female Draygan…” Wyatt felt Rozen stiffen at his back. “You are an odd party, to be sure.”

  “Were on an adventure to-”

  Horo cut Wyatt off with a hand wave. “Your business is your own, Master. We do not wish to be burdened by it. Astronians prefer to remain apart from the trials of the realms.”

  “Like Switzerland,” Wyatt blurted.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Wyatt slapped himself in the forehead. “Um, I mean you’re neutral. You keep to yourself.”

  Horo’s giant furry head nodded. “It is so.”

  “Then why take us in?” Mareck shouted.

  “We would be foolish to turn away a Druid after it has been so long. And just because we prefer solitude does not mean we have lost our compassion and hospitality. I shouldn’t be surprised if the High Keeper should stage a festival in the Master’s honor. This is a momentous day to be sure. Long have we waited.”

  Wyatt stiffened. A festival for me? About time.

  The giant toads were imposing creatures, but their awkward shuffling steps made for a slow journey. Mareck and Gareck snored loudly at the rear, burrowed deep into the thick fur of the Astronians in front of them. Wyatt too felt his eyelids droop, but his mind was spinning wildly in all directions.

  It was nearly dawn when they reached the city of Ouranos. A towering arch of stone rose from the path and bled into a short wall to either side. The imposing wooden doors were open, revealing the inner city. Wyatt had only seen the dark gray castle from the hill overlooking the bog, but the city spread out far and wide before it, dwarfing the keep.

  The fog slowly burned away as the first red rays of the sun beat down on the sprawling city. Horo boasted of his home as the giant toads waddled along the wide path amongst towering stone buildings. “The Sodden Bog, as it is formerly referred, stretches to the horizon in all directions, but at the very center lies a large solid mass of land, stone and hard soil. The keep was built at the northern end of the island, long ago. It houses the royal family, Astronians of high birth, and a large standing army.

  “The larger portion of our people live along the southern part of the island, in stone hovels.” Horo gestured to the buildings all around the group. Some towered like skyscrapers, others no more than crude huts, all made of the same gray stone.
The road through the center of the city bent and turned, weaving past all variety of buildings, none of which Wyatt could identify.

  The city was silent and an odd warmth flooded over them as they rode. Wyatt wiped sweat from his brow and looked to the sun. It had hardly broken the horizon, yet the temperature had risen dramatically. It felt as if they had stepped into an oven, or a sauna, for the air was thick with moisture. It quickly became difficult to breathe.

  “Why is it so hot here?” Wyatt gasped.

  Horo chuckled congenially. “Steam vents, Master,” he said and pointed to his left.

  Wyatt looked in time to see a blast of steam erupt from a stone well tucked between two tall buildings. The vapor hissed and bit at the retreating fog. Wyatt wiped his forehead again.

  “How can you live here?”

  Horo laughed again. Wyatt watched as he removed his heavy fur mittens to reveal three long brown and gold spotted fingers, much spindlier than even Rozen’s and possessing a few extra joints. The odd hands went to Horo’s head and the thick fur wrapping fell way. Wyatt felt his eyes go wide and watched in silence as the other Astronians disrobed as well. He could feel Rozen whirling about behind him, but she too was speechless.

  Before Wyatt could find any words the city of Ouranos exploded to life around them. Doors swung wide and the streets filled with a multitude of slender Astronians. A million conversations rippled and echoed off the stone buildings. The sudden shift from silence to all out commotion jolted Wyatt and roused the Children from their sleep.

  “By the Mother,” Gareck shouted.

  “Such beauty,” Mareck gushed.