by A. J. Walker
I know where you are. We’ll meet you at the top of those cliffs down the beach from you.
“You have to stop that,” Anders said out loud, knowing Ivan was still reading his thoughts. “I have a splitting headache and every time your voice comes into my head it sounds like a thousand bells are ringing all at once.”
Sorry, Ivan said, but it’s the only way I can communicate with you right now. Can you meet us at the top of those cliffs?
Anders responded, this time in his thoughts, My body hurts something awful, but I think I can make it there all right.
Good, Ivan said. It will take Max and me about a half hour to get there. We are on the opposite side of the cliffs from you.
Anders felt the pain in his head subside slightly as Ivan left his mind. Feeling stiff as a board, he half-heartedly attempted to stretch out his limbs before starting for the cliffs.
It took him longer than expected to walk through the thick vegetation carpeting the slope. Scrambling along the wet hillside covered with moss and ferns, Anders zigzagged uphill along the cliffs. The slope steepened as he climbed higher. Out of breath and weak in the knees, he finally made it to the top to see Ivan and Max waiting patiently. The two were sitting on a downed tree just upslope of the cliff’s edge. Anders was slightly irritated by how comfortable they looked.
Max waved him over to join them. He sat down heavily on the log, tired from his climb. Not saying a word, Anders looked out over the vast view of the ocean. The peaceful expanse from atop the cliff was spectacular. It cleared Anders of his irritation with Max and Ivan. The marvelous view was, however, an illusion of what had been and not what is. He sat for a moment in silence absorbing the singular moment of beauty before he would have to face the harsh reality of their predicament.
“What do we do now?” Anders asked Ivan, giving him a look as if he were truly lost.
“The only thing we can,” Ivan said seriously.
“And what exactly is that?” Anders was frustrated with the situation.
“We must find Red and any others that may have survived the wreck. Then we will continue our journey on foot.” Ivan got up off the log without looking at Anders or Max and began to walk down the hill from the top of the cliff.
“Well that sounds about right,” Anders said to Max.
“What do you mean,” Max asked.
“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he continued. “Everything I thought I knew about my life has just been flipped upside down. An evil beast riding a giant hound attacks my home, murders my uncle, and kidnaps the only family I have left. Now this guy shows up blasting energy from his hands and he can even read my thoughts. Everything is all screwed up; it’s like a nightmare I can’t escape. What’s next, dragons and demons?” Anders said in a half-crazed voice.
“Be real, dragons haven’t been seen in the five kingdoms of Kartania since long before The War of the Magicians. They either went extinct or are too busy sleeping in caves to be bothered with the problems of humans,” Max said. “I know it’s been hard to face the reality of all this, but for now we need to accept what happened and move on. Pretending it never happened or running away from it won’t bring back the people who were taken from us. I don’t know if my brother is dead or alive, but I’m going to assume he’s alive and I’m not going to give up until I free him from the soldiers who took him.” Max was on his feet breathing heavily after letting his emotions rile him.
“You’re right,” Anders said, pushing his tired body off the fallen tree. “I need to accept that what happened is real and I need to do whatever it takes to find my cousins.”
Anders and Max caught up with Ivan on the beach after swiftly scaling down from the cliff with a rejuvenated sense of determination.
“Do you know where Red is?” Anders asked, once they were walking alongside him. He assumed Ivan could sense Red using his mind.
“He’s far away, so it’s hard to tell the exact location,” he pointed in the direction they were walking. “All I know for sure is that he’s alive.”
“Where will we go after we locate the remaining survivors of the wreck?” Max asked Ivan.
“We need to reach a spot where we can send a message to the Rollo Islanders before their warships sail past us. If we can send a messenger to intercept them with a planned location for a rendezvous, we can join forces and continue our search for Thargon’s ships.”
“Brookside is only a few day’s walk from here,” Max said. “I have family there who could help us.”
“Yes,” Ivan said as if he were remembering something he had forgotten. “There is a man there who goes by the name of Solomon, do you know of him?”
“Of course I know Solomon!” Max exclaimed. “He’s a dear friend of mine. Why do you ask?”
“He has a great wealth of knowledge and may be able to answer a few of my questions,” Ivan said.
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Solomon?” Max asked.
“I know he is odd at times, but he’s been around for a long time and has helped me before,” Ivan said, confident that the old man would be of assistance to their quest.
“Sounds like a plan,” Anders said.
Together the three of them walked along the coastline searching for Red and any other survivors. Anders squinted to see a couple figures far off in the distance, moving along the beach. “Look!” he remarked pointing down the sandy shoreline in front of them.
“Yes, that would be our bull-headed captain,” Ivan said seeing Red’s silhouette in the distance. “And there are two others with him. Part of his crew.”
“That’s creepy how you can do that with nothing else but your mind,” Max said.
“Helpful, not creepy,” Ivan corrected him. “I’m not nearly as formidable as I once was. At one time in my life I could sense people from much greater distances, among other things. But those days are farther from me than I like to think.”
“Creepy, but amazing,” Max said, and Ivan gave him a look.
Anders felt better knowing that Ivan could tell whether the people far down the beach were friends or foes, although he was still unsure how he felt about the idea of having a sorcerer around. He wondered what had convinced his uncle that Ivan was dead; because he’d always told Anders since he was little that magic no longer existed in the world.
Did that mean Ivan was the last magician? No, because Thargon had used magic in Grandwood. Thinking about it made his head hurt, so he dismissed the thought to another time when he could devote more energy to it.
Red, along with two other men, had been surprised to see all three of them alive and well.
“The gods were good to let us live,” Red said, grabbing each one of them and embracing them with a soggy hug. “We drifted ashore late last night. After the ship went down, I found a piece of wreckage and was able to grab these two lads before they drowned,” Red said pointing to the men. “We have been up and down the shore, but didn’t see any sign of other survivors, until you.”
“It was a long, cold night. We were all lucky to survive it,” Ivan said trying to guilt Red a bit for sailing them into the storm. Red forced a cough, realizing Ivan’s implication. “We need to send word to your people before they sail past us where it will be harder to join them,” Ivan added, ending the awkward silence.
“I agree,” Red said. “I’m not familiar with this area. Is there a town close by where we can send a messenger bird?” he asked.
Ivan explained their plan to make the multi-day trek to Brookside.
“It’s about three or four days from here,” Max said. “I traveled to Grandwood on the trail just north of here. Once we bushwhack our way to the trail, the going will be easier than walking through the sand.”
“That sounds like as good a plan as any,” Red agreed, happy to have the next part of their adventure prepared for him.
“I have heard reports of goblins emerging from caves along the base of the Sharpstone M
ountains, near Brookside,” Ivan added.
“Goblins? Seriously, you believe in goblins?” Anders asked.
“After what you’ve seen over the last several days, I’m surprised you don’t take my word more seriously,” Ivan said glaring icily at Anders.
“He’s got a point,” Max said.
“Yeah, but come on, goblins are just folklore,” Anders said. “They’re stories to keep children from wandering out of their beds at night. They don’t really exist…” he trailed off into his own thoughts, considering the horrifying possibility of an actual horde of goblins rooting around in the foothills bordering Brookside.
“I have heard stories of them from reliable people,” Max said. “I didn’t have any trouble on my way over from Brookside, so they may have moved out of the area.”
“Either way, we should get a move on if we want to reach Brookside and send word before my people sail past us,” Red said.
Anders and the others followed Max as he pulled apart the thick growth of bramble and brush and led them toward the trail that meandered from the Grandwood Mountains to Brookside. Reaching the hard-packed dirt path, Ivan pulled Red aside while the others continued on ahead.
“Listen, and you listen good,” Ivan said sternly, gripping Red by the collar of his tattered shirt. “You almost cost all of us our lives back there on that ship. It took me nearly every ounce of magic I possess to insure the four of us didn’t die when Thargon’s wind wrecked our ship. My magic is nearly depleted and it will take me several days to regain my strength, so we’d better not run into any goblins because I won’t be able to do anything to stop them from slitting our throats while we sleep. I didn’t spend a good portion of my life fighting in a war that nearly ended Kartania’s existence and travel all this way to be led into a death trap by an inexperienced, eager-to-prove-his-self-worth child! From now on, I’m in charge of this outfit and you’ll do as I command. Is that perfectly clear?”
Red furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. Grumbling, he said, “Yes, sir,” and the two of them continued on behind the others.
***
The next morning Anders watched the sun slowly rise out of the eastern horizon, reflecting a golden hue off the water’s edge. Mountain snowmelt fed into the lake where they’d decided to camp. Kneeling, Anders bent down and cupped cold lake water into his hands. Splashing it over his face, he found himself momentarily engulfed by its icy grip. It sent a chill through his body that invigorated him. He thought it might have the same effect on him that caffeine did, pulling him out of the sleepy fog that clouded his mind during the early morning hours.
Anders was alone. He’d awakened early and couldn’t fall back asleep. Letting the cold water trickle down his face, he noticed a rustling in some tightly grouped willows to his left. Suddenly alert, he sat still, listening intently. His now-sharp eyes darted around the area as his body remained perfectly still. He was fully awake now, but hoped the noise was a figment of his imagination stemming from his lack of sleep. Slowly reaching his hand to his waist where his knife was holstered, he prepared for the worst. Blade in hand, he turned to face the brush where the noise had originated. A squirrel sprang out and scurried up a tree. Cursing himself for being so on edge, he took several deep breaths and slowed his heart rate. Then he laughed for having been so worried and tucked his blade back into its sheath.
Feeling foolish, he walked back to camp. Ivan, Red, Max and the other two Rollo warriors were now awake and preparing to leave. Anders gathered what few belongings he had: his bow and three arrows, a canteen, a small pouch of coins, and some flint for starting fires. The only other things he possessed were the clothes on his back and the knife holstered to his belt. He’d found the canteen and pouch of coins among the wreckage that washed ashore, but decided to leave some larger items behind. The group was anxious to make good time, so they’d decided to travel light.
“You ready to hump it all day?” Max asked enthusiastically.
Anders looked at him with a slightly confused and embarrassed look, and asked, “Wha… What do you mean by hump it all day?”
“You know,” Max said, gesturing to his legs. “Hike across the hills for the whole day. We still have at least two days of humping to get to Brookside. I know my feet will need a good soaking in hot water when we’re through with this one. What did you think I meant?” he asked Anders, recognizing the strange look on his face when he’d first asked him the question.
“Oh, nothing,” Anders said quickly. “I knew what you were talking about.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded at Max, hoping he wouldn’t keep digging into it.
The roughneck crew of shipwrecked men walked all day. They crossed countless rolling hills, trekking through green grass and lush trees. They’d been walking for an unusually long time without anyone saying a word, when Max broke the silence.
“Hey, Ivan,” he said.
“What?” Ivan replied shortly. Anders could hear the irritation in his voice when answering Max’s questions over the last several days.
“Tell me a story about when you were in the war,” Max said cheerfully. “How about when you first joined the army, what was that like?”
“I don’t feel like talking about that,” Ivan replied gruffly. Max’s disappointed sigh could be heard nearly a mile away.
“What about how you and Theodor met? You served with him, didn’t you?” Ivan glanced back at him as he spoke. “How did you two become friends?” Max continued, hoping Ivan would break and divulge something about his past.
Ivan paused for a moment, struggling to find words. He began to speak, slowly at first, and faster as the story flowed out.
“Theodor, Anders’ uncle, and I… were from different towns in Southland. Back in those days, the King’s army sent recruiting officers to get young men to sign up and join them. When they came to each town, the recruiters would set up obstacle courses in the town square and hold contests. As one can imagine, each contest was physically demanding and catered toward those who were the strongest and fastest. I won most of the competitions each time they came to my town. Ever since I was old enough to think for myself, I wanted to be soldier. When I became of age, I didn’t even blink twice before signing up for the King’s army.
“All of the recruits within Southland went to the same training camp. After six weeks of training, the recruits were assigned to divisions. Most people were placed into the infantry or cavalry, as more bodies are needed at the front lines during a war. Numbers were typically what won wars back then.
“Theodor and I were sent to the same camp and were both placed in bunkhouse thirteen, which became our training squad. During our first week of training, it became clear that I was going to be our squad’s leader. Theodor, however, needed some encouragement and drive to do what was expected of a new recruit. You see, he was underperforming and didn’t take the training very seriously. I was very committed to my role as our squad’s leader and began to help Theodor. When you have to rely on each other in a setting like that, you are only as good as your weakest person.
“Theodor told me briefly after meeting that he was forced to join the army by his father, who would strip him of his family rights if he didn’t do his part for the war effort. He didn’t want to dishonor his family name, so he joined reluctantly.
“Looking back on it now, I was a little harsh with him at first. We spent extra time in the mornings and evenings going through the drills. I helped him find his role in our group and after several weeks his improvements were leaps and bounds above any other person at the training facilities. We became quite close during those six weeks,” Ivan paused for a while, looking up at the sky.
With a long exhale he continued, “Once our squad’s training was complete, we were assigned and placed into our new roles. Theodor and I were posted to different divisions and didn’t see much of each other for a long time after that.”
“I thought you two served together during the war?” Max interr
upted.
“We did serve together when the war reached its peak. But after training camp, we both went our separate ways for several years before our paths crossed again,” Ivan said succinctly.
Ivan quickened his pace to put some distance between himself and the others and walked in silence, clearly not wanting to say anymore. Anders wondered if there was something Ivan wasn’t telling them, and he wanted to know, he deserved to know.
“Please continue,” Anders urged Ivan as he jogged to catch up with him.
Anders could tell Ivan didn’t want to continue but knew Anders wouldn’t let him end where he’d attempted to, so begrudgingly he picked up where he’d left off.
“Theodor was placed in the cavalry as a marksman. He had a special talent with his bow that not many could rival. I was sent off to an officers’ training program to further my role as a leader,” Ivan stopped at a small stream flowing across the trail. “Red,” he hollered at the Rollo warrior who was walking with his men several yards in front of them. “Let’s hold up here for a moment,” Ivan commanded.
Max and Anders took this opportunity to sit and rest their feet. Ivan stopped and drank from the stream.
“Theodor never talked about his time during The War of the Magicians,” Anders said. “Thank you for talking about it with us. It seems there’s a lot about my uncle that I didn’t know.”
Anders felt Ivan was holding something back and wasn’t telling him everything about his uncle’s part of the story, but reading the current situation, he knew now was not the time to ask. If he did and wasn’t sensible about it, Ivan might clam up and never talk about his uncle with him again. Anders had the over-whelming feeling that Ivan knew things about his family that could help him discover where he came from, perhaps even who his parents were.
“We have about two more hours of daylight; we should consider making camp soon,” Red said to the group.
“There’s a place coming up where I’ve camped many times before,” Max said.
“We will camp there,” Ivan said, speaking as if Max’s idea were his own.
