by Wacht, Peter
In effect, Kaylie could follow her quarry at a safe distance and not have to worry about discovery. Actually depositing the stone in one of Thomas’ pockets had been easier than expected when she confronted him in the hallway the night before. She had used his distraction with what he needed to do to her advantage.
Yes, indeed, she was quite pleased with herself as the afternoon’s shadows began to lengthen in the woods, signaling that the day was coming to an end. At least she was until her horse reared up unexpectedly, whinnying in terror. She struggled to stay on, holding desperately to the high horn of her saddle, before finally regaining control of her mount after several frantic seconds. A massive black wolf barred her path, teeth bared, a growl emanating from deep in his throat.
“Beluil, what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice cross. “You have no right to scare me like that. Bad wolf. You’re a very bad wolf.”
Kaylie’s admonition didn’t seem to faze the huge wolf, its black fur fading in and out of the early evening shadows. He sat on his haunches, a sly grin displaying his sharp teeth. The wolf seemed to relish watching her scramble to maintain control of her frightened horse.
“He’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing,” said a quiet voice that came from among the trees behind her. Thomas stood there deep within the gloom, the tone of his voice suggesting that he was clearly displeased. “What are you doing here, Kaylie?”
She didn’t respond for almost a minute. Not because her horse continued to fight her, trying to get as far away from the black wolf as possible. But because she didn’t know what to say, never having expected to be caught so soon and not yet having prepared for this moment. She thought that she’d have at least a few more days to work out her story. In the end, she decided to tell Thomas the truth.
“I didn’t think you’d let me go with you from the start, so I thought that I’d join you later,” Kaylie said, trying to infuse as much of a sense of command in her voice as would be expected of a Fal Carrachian princess, but finding the task difficult as her horse continued to struggle against her attempts to calm it. “When you couldn’t stop me.” That last came out as a reluctant mumble.
Thomas stepped out of the shadows and grabbed hold of her mount’s reins, placing a hand on the frightened horse’s neck. In seconds, the horse settled, its terrified, rolling eyes now calm, placid.
“How did you do that?” asked Kaylie.
“A topic to discuss at another time,” replied Thomas. “We’re only a day from Eamhain Mhacha. I could send you back.”
“No, you can’t. I am the Princess of Fal Carrach, and I will decide where I go and when.”
“Princess you may be, Kaylie, but do you understand the consequences of this decision? Do you have any idea what we’re doing? The danger involved?”
“Well, no. I don’t really know the details,” Kaylie admitted sheepishly. “But Thomas, I need …”
“You need? What you need is of no consequence. You have no understanding of what we’re seeking to accomplish, yet you feel the need to force your way into our group?”
“Thomas …”
“To say nothing of your father. He knows what we’re about. He knows the threats and dangers we face. I have no doubt that he doesn’t want you anywhere near us.”
Kaylie dismounted, grabbing her horse’s reins from Thomas and stroking its face gently to keep the mare calm. She turned her beseeching eyes on the angry Highland Lord.
“Thomas, please. I understand. I do. It was unfair of me to think that you’d welcome me with open arms. And you’re right, I don’t know the full extent of what you seek to do. I haven’t been privy to those conversations. But please. I need to do this. I need to prove to myself that I can do this. I was raised a princess. I will always be a princess. Some day I will be a queen. But I cannot lead my people, I cannot do my duty to Fal Carrach, if I can’t first prove to myself that I can do this. That I’m more than just someone born to privilege. I can’t ask the people who will rely on me to do what’s needed if I don’t first prove to myself that I can do the same.”
Thomas bit back his sharp retort, not expecting such honesty or earnestness. He examined Kaylie, his eyes flinty. To her credit, she refused to wilt under his gaze, her eyes fixed on his, her back straight.
“That I can understand,” he sighed, shaking his head, in resignation or exasperation Kaylie couldn’t say. It might have been both. “Come on. We’ll let the others decide.”
Thomas was about to step back between the trees to get his own horse when a growl from Beluil stopped him in his tracks.
“Thomas, what is it?” asked Kaylie, noticing the unnatural darkness that had settled over their section of the forest, a darkness that had nothing to do with the oncoming night.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “But it’s nothing good.”
The rumble of Beluil’s growl grew deeper, the large wolf rising from where he sat and taking a few steps to the west, his hackles raised. Taking his friend’s lead, Thomas took hold of the Talent, searching in the direction upon which Beluil had focused his attention.
There. Just a few hundred feet in front of them and getting closer. The faint stench of evil approached, but so imperceptible that Thomas feared that if he turned his concentration elsewhere even for just a second that he would lose it altogether.
“Kaylie,” he said quietly. “Whatever it is, it’s coming from the west. Check around us and make sure nothing else approaches, particularly from behind us.”
Kaylie nodded, but she wasn’t sure that Thomas could see her acknowledgement in the encroaching dark. Reaching out with the Talent, she scanned the surrounding forest for several leagues around them. There was nothing there, at least nothing to worry about. She couldn’t even detect whatever danger Thomas and Beluil had identified, though she had located the Marcher camp a league to the west.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Good. Well done.” Thomas kept his attention fixed on the west. “I don’t know what’s coming toward us, but it will be here soon. Take your horse over there and stay among the trees. Be ready for when I need you.”
Kaylie did as Thomas requested, leading her horse between the trees to the east. She maintained her hold of the Talent, hoping that she interpreted correctly what Thomas had in mind. Thomas and Beluil remained where they were in the center of the small clearing, seemingly rooted to the ground. An unnatural silence had fallen over the forest, the noise of the nighttime animals disappearing as the evil approached.
They didn’t have long to wait. After just a few minutes more passed, Kaylie picked out a cowled shadow emerging from the strange gloom. She could sense the evil that issued from the figure that stood facing Thomas and Beluil, but only just. It was muted for some reason, barely registering compared to what she experienced when opposing Ogren, Shades and other dark creatures.
“After our last encounter,” began the cowled figure, it’s voice cracked, apparently masked, so that it wouldn’t give away its identity, although it was clearly the voice of a man, “I didn’t expect to catch you unawares a second time.”
Thomas nodded, one hand on Beluil’s shoulder as if to hold him back, the large wolf growling deeply, its paws poised beneath him so that the massive animal could leap at the intruder. “The Crag.”
“The Crag.”
The silence deepened, Thomas and the shadowy form staring at one another. Then in a flash of black deeper than the night, shards of energy blasted toward Thomas. In response, Thomas immediately formed a shield of white light that was large enough to protect him and Beluil, the deadly slivers glancing off the barrier harmlessly, the bright brilliance of the Talent illuminating the surrounding forest and turning night into day. But that was only the beginning of the attack. Following the shards of black energy came bolts of Dark Magic which elongated into spears. The warlock threw so many at Thomas at one time that the spears appeared to be a single streak of black surging toward him. None were able to break through the barrie
r Thomas had constructed, so the cowled figure finally settled on two streams of midnight-black power shooting from his hands.
Kaylie watched in amazement. Thomas appeared calm and collected despite the onslaught, maintaining his hold on the Talent to defend against the Dark Magic thrown against him. But she could see that he had to split his focus between his attacker and Beluil, who was intent on launching himself at their assailant but was unable to do so because of the shield. Despite the black wolf’s strength and courage, she had no doubt about what would happen to Beluil if he slipped by Thomas’ defense and was struck by their attacker’s Dark Magic.
She had to do something before that happened. But what? Then she remembered her most recent lesson with Rya. In an instant the forest grew even brighter as spears of white light shot from Kaylie’s hands, aimed toward the cowled figure who was so intent on Thomas that he didn’t bother to check the surrounding woods for any threats.
Their attacker rolled out of the way, shocked, barely escaping Kaylie’s unexpected attack. The robed assailant formed a shield of black energy just in time to stop a stream of white light that flowed from Thomas’ hand from burning him to a crisp. Kaylie continued her assault as well, spears of white energy joining Thomas’ flow to slam against their attacker’s shield. The blinding power was so strong and intense that it began to eat away at the shield’s edges, forcing the assassin deeper among the trees.
Recognizing the untenability of his position, the cowled figure pulled in more of the Dark Magic gifted to him by his master, using some to maintain his shield, but applying the bulk toward what Thomas had expected to see. In a recurrence of what had happened at the Crag, the cowled man formed a portal of spinning black mist. Once it was large enough, he stepped through, then released his hold on the Dark Magic so that the gateway snapped shut behind him, and with it went the unnatural darkness that had covered that part of the forest.
Both Thomas and Kaylie released their holds on the Talent, Beluil charging forward to where he had last seen their attacker, turning his nose up in disgust as the reek of corruption lingered.
“Well done,” said Thomas.
Kaylie could only nod, never having experienced such a rush of adrenaline before. She struggled to control the fear and excitement that mingled and danced within her.
“You see the danger that we face now,” said Thomas, his voice firm. “The Shadow Lord will do all that he can to stop us. You can still head back.”
Kaylie stared back at Thomas, his green eyes unyielding and glowing brightly in the night. “No. No, I want to do this. I need to do this.”
“I thought as much,” said Thomas with a tight grin, nodding. “Let’s go.”
After remounting, they caught up to Oso and the other Marchers at the camp they’d established for the evening. Oso seemed to have expected who their guest might be, but he chose not to say anything. Thomas circled his Marchers around and explained the situation, allowing them to make the final decision regarding the runaway princess. He would fill in Oso on the excitement of the evening later.
It proved to be a short conversation. All had fought in the Highlands against Rodric and the Armaghian army. All had seen Kaylie’s skill with the blade, and they appreciated the fact that two of their party now had some skill in the Talent. Hard men and women they may be, but they were not fools.
The decision made, Thomas stalked over to Kaylie, not sure how he felt about his Marchers’ decision, but accepting it. Wringing her hands with worry, Kaylie could tell that he wasn’t happy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” said Thomas. “But we won’t send you back. Your decision is your own. But if you’re going to be with us, you need to be one of us. You need to carry your weight just like any other member of our group.”
She nodded quickly. “Of course.”
Thomas continued before she could say anything else. “And to be clear, I lead this band. If I give an order, you obey it.”
Kaylie started to protest, but held back the sharp response that naturally rose within her, recognizing that the harsh glint in his eyes brooked no argument. “Understood,” she answered quietly.
“You shall do everything that is required of you without complaint. You will follow instructions and you will be expected to perform any task that any one of us can do. If you can’t, you will return willingly to Fal Carrach without dispute.”
Kaylie looked into Thomas’ eyes and saw how serious he was. She realized then that this opportunity to prove herself was perhaps more important than she had first imagined. She steeled herself to that realization quickly.
“Agreed.”
“So be it,” said Thomas. He walked out toward the forest that infringed on their small clearing. “Get some sleep. You’ll have the third watch tonight.”
Kaylie watched him go, pleased that she had won this battle, but regretting how she had upset Thomas. She walked toward her horse, which one of the Marchers had groomed for her while she had spoken with Thomas. Rummaging through her saddlebags, which the kind Marcher had left near her horse, she pulled out a thick blanket and stepped toward the small fire. Third watch was the hardest, from three in the morning until dawn. But that was fine with Kaylie. If Thomas wanted to test her, she could take it. And she would do so without complaint.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Stalked
As Thomas and his small band of Marchers moved north toward the distant mountains that marked the border of Kenmare and the Clanwar Desert, they stayed within the small forests that rose up before them, trying to avoid any unwanted attention by keeping clear of the farmsteads and small towns that sprung up along the way. During those quiet days, Thomas spent little time with Kaylie, treating her as he would anyone else in their group of travelers.
She assumed that he avoided her because he was angry with her for joining them uninvited. She didn’t realize that his behavior really resulted from his fear that she had placed herself needlessly in danger because of him and that there was little that he could do about it.
One evening with the sentries set and the fires hidden from any prying eyes, she managed to corner him. As was Beluil’s habit, the large wolf had trotted off into the darkness to scout the surrounding terrain on his own, more often than not finding a wolf pack to run with for a time.
“What was it that attacked us?” she asked.
Thomas didn’t need Kaylie to clarify, knowing what was on her mind. The cowled figure had been in his thoughts as well.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Clearly a servant of the Shadow Lord, what with his ability in Dark Magic.”
“Yes, but I could barely sense him,” Kaylie protested. “Ogren. Shades. Warlocks. They give off a signature, a stench, that’s hard to forget when they get close.”
Thomas nodded in agreement. “I know. That’s why once I located him I didn’t want to take the chance of losing him. It was difficult to find him in the first place.”
“But how could he do that?”
Thomas mulled her question for a few minutes, not liking the direction his thoughts were leading him. “Perhaps he’s like Chertney or Malachias,” he suggested. “They both seem to have the knowledge to mask their ability like we do. Or perhaps it could be something else.”
“What do you mean?”
Thomas was reluctant to share just a guess, barely a suspicion in fact, but there was no reason to hide anything from Kaylie. It could prove important if they faced the cowled figure again. “There was something about our attacker that was familiar.”
“He said something about the Crag.”
“Yes, he did. I faced him there months ago. He ambushed me when I came down from the Roost and escaped just as he did when we battled against him a few days ago, stepping through the portal. But there was more to it than that.”
“Thomas, you need to be more specific if I’m going to understand.”
Thomas shrugged, suggesting his uncertainty about what he was going to say next. “When I say he was familiar, I mean
I recognized him. Rather, I think I may have met him before. I may know him.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“The Pinnacle.”
It took Kaylie a moment to understand the implication of what Thomas had just said. “But isn’t that where …” She was afraid to complete her thought.
Thomas nodded. “The meeting place of the Sylvana.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Why not?” asked Thomas. “Everyone has their weaknesses and desires. If the Shadow Lord can identify them, make use of them, why couldn’t he corrupt a Sylvan Warrior? Maybe our attacker could mask his ability in Dark Magic. That, of course, is the most likely explanation. Or maybe our attacker’s ability in the Talent prevented us from realizing that we faced a servant of the Shadow Lord until it was almost too late.”
Their conversation ended, both staring into the fire. Thomas’ suspicion chilled her to the bone. They did not talk much after that, though Kaylie kept a close eye on Thomas.
Every so often Thomas rode ahead on his own, returning several hours later. Or he stopped the group at odd times, sitting his horse stock still, eyes closed, appearing to be asleep in his saddle. She knew that he was using the Talent to scan all around them in search of any potential dangers.
During their breaks, she extended her senses as well, something that Thomas obviously noted but never commented on. She found the skill to have become a part of her after her extensive training with Rya, as easy to do as blink her eyes.
A few nights later, as the Marchers finished their meal, Thomas doused the small fire, something that he hadn’t done before. He then doubled the guard. Kaylie could tell that something bothered him, but he made no mention of what it could be. Instead, he walked a few dozen feet into the woods, settling himself against a tree, Beluil in front of him as the large wolf apparently felt the need to stay close to Thomas rather than go off on his nightly survey of their surroundings. Beluil appeared to be watching and listening for something, but what it could be she didn’t know. She could see the moonlight reflecting off the large wolf’s eyes. Though he had lain down next to Thomas, Beluil was very much alert, ready to rise in an instant if a threat appeared.
