Soul Seeking

by R. Michael Card

  That dark feeling now had a companion: guilt. He felt horrid about having left Caerwyn to fight his battles for him. He should have stayed and seen it through. Yet he had to know what had happened to his aunt and uncle. He was torn. There was no good choice to make. He hoped Caerwyn had fared well.

  He’d been following the trail the krolls had left through the woods. It was quite clear to anyone who was observant enough. They’d stomped through shrubs and broken a lot of branches. They weren’t trying to be stealthy, if they even knew how. It was also fairly clear they were heading somewhere specific or at the very least directly away from Jais’ house, as they were moving in a fairly straight line.

  He came to the Blackbush Run, a shallow but wide creek which carved a clearing through the forest. Depending on the year and the rains, this watercourse was sometimes just a rough path of stones, dried up. But this year it was still gurgling along well enough.

  Still pondering his situation and uncertain what to do, Jais stopped for a sip from the cool waters. He sat back on his haunches afterward and sighed. He had nothing with him, but that which he’d had when he left the village, the clothes on his back and the sword at his hip. He hadn’t had time or the inclination to gather anything from his home. He’d thought it destroyed, but there were probably still some things he could have recovered from the wreckage. A bow would have been nice, something with which to attack krolls at range instead of going toe to toe with one.

  Gods, what a fool he was.

  He rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. The wounds from earlier that day felt tight and itchy, already healing. When Barami had cleaned and bandaged them, the old warrior must have done a superior job — or Jais’ natural healing was kicking in — as he hadn’t noticed the wounds for some time. But he could feel the pull of the cuts now that he moved his back. He had never seen them so he had no clue how bad they were, but he was fairly certain none would hinder him much, even if reopened.

  He sipped at another handful of water from the stream, and stood.

  Only then did something catch his eye.

  Movement.

  Something in the shadows beneath the trees. It wasn’t a kroll, it was too small, human sized. He left the filly still drinking from the brook and crept into the brush toward where he’d seen the shape.

  It had been odd, like it had a lantern or something, as if there was light, but an odd color.

  Once on the other side of a large bush, he caught another glimpse between two trees farther on. He moved carefully to that point, making no noise on the loamy forest floor.

  When he reached those trees the flash came again, to his left. He looked then blinked. There was a body there. The face was turned away, but suddenly Jais’ dread solidified into an anguished squeezing of his heart. Those were his uncle’s clothes.

  He rushed over and threw himself down next to the man. Turning the head confirmed two things: this was his uncle and… he was dead. There was no pulse at his neck, and his face was ashen white, eyes staring into oblivion. There were also the three great gashes across his chest and abdomen, widely spaced… claw marks. No animal had anything like that. This was the work of krolls.

  “Uncle Perrick!”

  He slumped over the body, tears coming to his eyes as he was flooded with a wave of emotions, not the least of which were anger and grief.

  He allowed himself to weep for a long moment before thinking of his aunt. Where was she? Also who had led him here? The last question didn’t really matter. He was here, and that was good enough.

  He rose and rushed back through the brush, bringing the filly back to the place where his uncle lay. It was surprisingly easy to pluck up the body from the ground. His uncle was a tall and well-built man, not huge like Erid, but big enough. Jais draped him over the back of the filly.

  A thought struck him, and he took a moment to search the area. He found his uncle’s hunting bow and his pack not far from where his body had been. The nearly full quiver at his uncle’s hip gave him twelve arrows. He now had a ranged weapon. He wasn’t sure what arrows would do to a kroll. They seemed to shrug off Caerwyn’s spear, and these projectiles were much smaller. But it was something, and he’d take it.

  He returned to tracking the krolls with a mounting sense of urgency. His aunt was still out there, and whether she was still alive or dead… Jais didn’t know.

  Barami was in a cellar, he knew that much now after exploring the walls. He’d found, by banging his shin into it — as if he didn’t have enough pains already — a stairway up to a horizontal door in the wood panels above him. It was barred or locked down, and he could find no other way out. The cellar was large and contained several barrels and hempen sacks. He’d searched it thoroughly by touch.

  Once he was coherent enough and stopped to listen, he could also hear voices above him, though they seemed distant, like they were not directly above him but in some adjacent room.

  He took his time, planning. It was hard to tell time down here in the dark, but after a while he knew he was hearing three separate voices. Unless there was someone up there who wasn’t speaking at all, that meant only three men ‘guarding’ him. He could take three men.

  So he formed his plan, moving around some barrels and sacks until he was ready. Then, having stacked several of the barrels up as high as he could he pushed the tower over. They crashed to the stone floor with a clamor which he hoped would be heard above. Indeed the voices stopped talking for a moment. Then he heard the sounds of men moving along the floorboards towards the trap door.

  Barami hid behind several other barrels, which he piled in such a way that he’d be able to peer through the cracks between them, and see what the men were doing.

  One of the men shouted through the floor. “What are you doing down there?”

  Barami didn’t answer.

  There were some softer murmurs he couldn’t make out clearly then a pause, and someone was working with the bolt on the door.

  Good.

  They’d be expecting a hurt and dying man. He was still hurt, but now far from dying.

  The door opened, and there came the stab of light from a lantern, which was thrust down into view.

  “See anything?” one man said.

  “Some barrels have been moved, some are broken. There was good mead in those ones!” He sounded upset. Good.

  Barami groaned, hoping it sounded pathetic.

  “He’s still alive down there.”

  “Not for much longer I’d wager.”

  “Should we check on him?”

  “If neither of you will go, I will. I don’t want to lose any more good stock.” A man, portly and short, stomped down the stairs into the cellar grumbling something about, “should have moved all this.”

  It seemed the other two wouldn’t venture down, though. As the portly man began to look around, a second man, the one holding the lantern, did take a few steps down the stairs to get a better look.

  “See him?” the one on the stairs asked.

  “Nah,” grumbled the portly one. “And some of this has been moved. What’s he been doing down here?” That man was drawing closer to Barami’s hiding spot.

  He needed to time this just right.

  He slipped to one side, hoping the portly man would go around the barrels he was behind in the other direction. He was in luck.

  As the portly man looked around one side, Barami broke free and sprinted toward the man on the stairs.

  This one was spry and quick. He jumped up and out of the cellar, but he dropped the lantern as he did. He was shouting, “Close the door!” to the other man still up above.

  The door closed, but Barami had been fast enough. He reached the stairs as the door came down. With a burst of speed and strength, he rushed up the stairs and took the door with his shoulder. It lurched up. They hadn’t had time to lock it. He also heard a satisfying grunt. It had hit someone.

  He sprang up out of the hole and charged the man who had been holding the lantern. T
here was a fire starting in the room as the oil from the lantern burned and spread over the floorboards next to a wall.

  Barami slammed into the man, his forearm across the man’s upper chest. A quick punch to the throat and that one was down.

  He turned to the other man, who was clutching one hand, rubbing it.

  Good.

  The portly one was also on the stairs coming up again.

  He ran at the one on this level, slamming the trap door down as he passed, rewarded with a pained, “Ow,” from the man below.

  The one up here tried to flee backward, but fell, hitting his head hard on the floor. He’d be a moment or two getting up.

  And that fire was spreading.

  Barami decided not to stay and finish these men. He barged through the only door in the room into… the cooking area of the tavern. There was a back door not far away, and he left through that.

  He wasn’t in great shape, but he ran as fast as he could out of the town, pausing once to catch his breath and turn back… to see the tavern in flames.

  He couldn’t say he was sorry.

  Jais had been travelling a while now. The day was fading, but he was fairly certain he’d found the place the krolls had taken his aunt. There was a long, high ridge running through the forest with a nearly vertical rock-face. In the side of that cliff was a cave, large enough for any kroll to come and go easily. This is where the tracks had led.

  He used a little light rope, from his uncle’s pack, to tie up the filly, leaving his uncle with the animal.

  Then he approached the cave, carefully. A cave full of krolls was the last place he wanted to be, but his aunt might be in there, and he was determined to get to her, if she was still alive.

  It was the ‘if’ that concerned him.

  18

  Caerwyn woke to a rather beautiful sunset.

  “Alnia?” she called out.

  “One moment,” was the distant reply.

  Uncertain if she was up for moving, Caerwyn gingerly tested her wound. It was painful, but more the sensitive sting of something healing, not a fresh wound. Between her natural healing and the healing goo, she hoped she would be done with it soon.

  She tried sitting and found that easy enough, though still awkward, needing to lean and prop herself up to be anywhere near comfortable.

  She could now see a pile of items had been gathered near her. It looked like blankets and some food. There was also a pile of wood, from tinder to logs. If this was Alnia’s work the woman had been busy.

  Alnia came into view, her white dress cut up and dirty as she carried an armload of wood. She dumped the new wood with the pile nearby and huffed. “Hello. Feeling better?”

  “Yes, I think so. You gathered all this?”

  Alnia nodded. “I wasn’t certain whether I should move you, and it was getting dark, so I started gathering a few things from the house. Mostly stuff to help in case it was a cool night.” After a moment she added, “That was a nasty wound, you certain you should be doing anything but resting?”

  “We drahksani heal quickly. I’ll be fine. I think.” Caerwyn looked around at the other bodies not far away. “They all dead?” She really hadn’t been certain about some of them. She also thought of something else. “How’s your brother?”

  “He’ll live, but he doesn’t heal quickly. He’s sleeping. The rest of them but one are dead and that last one…” Alnia shrugged. “I think he’ll be out for a while. I tried to clean him up as best I could.”

  Caerwyn adjusted her sitting position. The arm she was leaning on was getting tired. “I’m sorry you had to go against your own people… your own family.”

  Alnia looked away, perhaps at the sunset, perhaps at nothing. After a moment she said, “They made their choice, and I made mine. I think their choice was foolish, but they are still mostly decent people. I honestly don’t really understand it.”

  “They are blinded by fear and hate. They cannot see us for what we are.” Caerwyn didn’t finish her thought: you are blinded by love, my dear.

  “Others are going to come.” It was an odd statement and came from nowhere. For a moment Caerwyn thought Alnia, who was still staring of into the hills, actually saw people coming. It took her a moment to realize it was a general statement.

  “Yes. They’ll be looking for these ones. They’ll be looking for Jais and myself. I should go. The longer I stay here, the more I put you, and myself, in danger.”

  Alnia lowered her gaze, but still seemed to be looking more through the earth than at it. “I think I need to come with you.” She swallowed hard. This was something the other woman had probably been thinking a lot about, not an easy decision. “I don’t know if I can stay here. Even though I’ve healed him, I don’t know if Danz will forgive me for siding with Jais… and you. Others may feel the same, and honestly I don’t know who I can count on to support me, if anyone.”

  It was sound logic, but Caerwyn didn’t really want another companion. Jais leaving with her was fine, but… well if she was honest it was Alnia herself she didn’t want tagging along. In her semiconscious state while resting she’d been thinking — rather selfishly — about Jais coming with her after all of this. If it were just the two of them… perhaps that would make it easier for them to…

  But Caerwyn wouldn’t turn Alnia away, that would just be wrong.

  She sighed and nodded.

  That decided, she needed to make one more decision: to try to leave now or wait until morning. She desperately wanted to go after Jais, help him, get him away from all this, but she knew her wound was still tentative at best. She needed rest, but wasn’t sure she could afford the time.

  And where was Barami?

  She feared her longtime companion had finally picked a fight he couldn’t win. There were far too many uncertainties for her liking.

  “Do you need anything before we leave?” Caerwyn asked. Though she was fairly certain she knew the answer.

  “I… I should find new clothes…” A long sigh. “But I dare not return to the village. I will have to make do with what I have.”

  Caerwyn nodded. They both would.

  “How far is it to the woods, someplace to hide?”

  Alnia looked around in the fading light of day. “About a couple hundred paces for me.”

  Caerwyn could make it that far. “I’m going to go grab my pack. I dropped it on the hill somewhere over there before the fight. Then I’ll wander over to the woods, and we’ll find a spot to rest. Go look for a relatively flat clear area a fair ways back from the edge. Then bring what you can from this pile.”

  Alnia nodded and walked away to do as instructed.

  Caerwyn used Davlas to help her stand, though she was half doubled over to keep from stretching her wound too much. She hobbled around the battle scene until she found her pack, then knelt gingerly to pick it up. It had taken her a while, and it was nearly full dark now. By the time she returned to Alnia’s pile of supplies, Alnia herself was returning.

  “I found a spot. Hopefully it will do.” She grabbed up an armful of blankets, a little food, and some other odds and ends. “Follow me.”

  Caerwyn grabbed a few other bits, careful in how much she carried, then limped along behind Alnia.

  The spot the other woman had found was indeed pleasant and well hidden. A large tree had fallen some time ago, uprooting itself. The great tangle of roots created a slightly cave-like area, providing some small cover from any inclement weather, but mostly hiding them from anyone searching around Jais’ house. They dropped everything off, and Alnia went back for another load as Caerwyn started a fire with some bits of wood around the area, using her flint and steel. By the time Alnia return with some larger wood, it was burning well.

  Caerwyn had been uncertain about starting a fire, but had reasoned that the great bowl of the tree would block the flame from any casual searchers, and since it was full night now, smoke would be hard to see against a night sky. As long as she kept it small she wasn’t worried abou
t people finding them because of it.

  “I heard voices as I left,” Alnia said setting down her armload. “People were headed up to find out what happened. We may want to keep the fire small for a bit and our voices low.

  The girl had some sense.

  Caerwyn nodded. “I’m due for more rest. Can you tend to all this?”

  “Yes. Rest.”

  Caerwyn lay back on some blankets. The ground wasn’t perfectly flat, but she was tired enough that it didn’t matter. She was asleep quickly.

  It was full dark when Alnia shook her awake. There was a terrified urgency in her voice as she leaned over Caerwyn and whispered, “Someone’s out there!”

  Jais crept through darkness.

  In the cave, at night, there was no light at all, and yet he could still see. His vision wasn’t great, but it was far better than being blind and stumbling around on this uneven ground. It was odd, as if everything was giving off some slight ambient light by which he could see, though it was quite basic, no color, just shapes, and certainly not for any significant distance. It was enough for him to move along slowly and carefully through the cave.

  And it was a rather significant cave system. He was following the largest cavern as it wound down and into the earth, but there were many other small crevices and caves. He had even ducked into these a couple of times to avoid krolls. To his surprise there were many of the creatures here, coming and going, thumping and lumbering along, giving him lots of warning. They were not concerned about hiding themselves at all, which helped him evade them. But he was getting more and more worried about the sheer number of the things.

  Both Caerwyn and Barami had expressed their confusion and concern about the number of krolls and how they were cooperating. They said it was odd, out of character. Well that meant this place was a significant confluence of oddity then, for as far as Jais could tell, this was their home, their ‘base’. And he was starting to get the feeling there were far more here than he had expected, more than he could deal with.