Rolling Thunder

by A. R. LEOPARD

  Yes, he was ready to get on the road again. This really rather surprised him. He had always thought the restful, easy life was the life for him. Now however, he realized he preferred the active life, the doing and going and roughing it life. Or maybe he just had a case of the-grass-is-always-greener-on-the-other-side.

  In any case, he was leaving. Where, he did not yet know. But he and Drift would retrace their steps and head back down out of the mountains. James wondered if maybe they could go into Falair and pop a surprise on the prince, but he couldn't decide if that was entirely kind considering how he left them, and he wasn't sure Drift would want to brave the snow-capped mountains. Little did he know that the prince was already well on his way back to Hermin Druer, and that Sir Lavison and the others were even now braving those snow-capped mountains on their way back. He just knew that he hadn't the slightest idea what he was suppose to do now. He supposed he should just start moving, so, early one day James headed out, his packs loaded and his heart light, bodyguard by his side, ready to trek down the road that would lead them down out of these mountains.

  —————

  Sir Lavison meanwhile was having a time of it fighting the fierce blizzards that were continually besetting them on their return journey. He and Sir Kessil were more or less in command, and that made things rather interesting. The others didn't particularly respect their command, but they weren't overly obstinate about it either. Of course, it helped that everyone was too tired to complain much. Plus, there was a general concern for the queen and an overall desire to be back home. This kept them fighting the snow and ice and gave them the patience to put up with Sir Lavison's lead, albeit begrudgingly. The pass was in even deeper snow than when they had passed through it the first time, but they didn't have goblins to fight off this time. Not yet anyway.

  But there were other things that inhabited those lofty, cloud-wreathed heights. Things that do not fear the wind and cold and ice. The Jagged range was by no means a safe place to be traveling. It really was a wonder they hadn't met with anything worse on their first trip and that thus far, the worst they had seen on this second trip was a lone wolf, ravaged with hunger, but not about to take on a large group.

  “Do you suppose the prince is back yet?” Fife asked during a break as the whole bunch huddled under the scanty overhang of a rock, trying desperately to warm up.

  “No. But it won’t be long since I’m sure he barely stops but to switch horses.” Sir Lavison answered quietly. Relations between the two parties had improved greatly over the weeks through the comradeship gained by people who experience similar misfortunes.

  “And how much longer do we have until our path starts heading downhill again?” another weary man asked.

  “Not much.” Sir Ingot answered shortly as he watched a group of wolves evolve from the swirling snow to stare hungrily at the travelers.

  Sir Lavison sat down and stared away off into the mad weather. There were some days where he swore he could hear that soft familiar voice cracking a joke in the mix of the company's chatter, that he could see the brave, but small form of a man stealthily looking for more food for his ever hungry stomach. Every now and again, he would hear a word or phrase that would make him start at its peculiar nature and he would look about for the speaker, just to remember he was gone. He wondered at himself really. The influence that near stranger had was amazing. He never thought he'd be wondering about James so long after his disappearance, but here he was, still grieving over him and the sad chance that had swept him away.

  And now, as he watched the falling flakes swirl and careen, he wondered for the thousandth time what had happened to James and too, if he really did want to know.

  The wind howled and roared but in it, another strange howl could be heard. Sir Lavison, even in his state of pondering, noticed the new sound and looked up to where Sir Ingot and Sir Kessil were standing, watching as the wolves slunk back into the clouds of snow. Sir Lavison stood and leaned out into the snow to see if he could see anything. All was a white sheet of blindness. He tried to concentrate his hearing, but that was hardly necessary as the roar bellowed out again and this time much closer.

  Out of the swirling snow where the wolves had vanished an enormous white creature materialized. It was like a huge white bear, but it walked on its hind legs and swung its huge arms limp at its sides as it plowed forward. It roared again at the wind and snow and perhaps at those wolves too, and lifted its great arms to the clouds and stretched out his paws so that every claw was silhouetted against the sky. He was huge, like an evil snow monster, much larger than a normal bear, and with something else mixed in there, a buffalo perhaps, or a wolverine, or maybe, he was part giant.

  In any case, when he looked back down his eyes were wild and unpredictable just like the mountains he made his home in, and suddenly, they were filled with rage too, as he caught sight of the intruders in his land. Of course, I don't really know if that's why he raged, but something made him even more mad for he bawled again and started running forward on all four legs, eyes boring into their rock ledge.

  Sir Lavison and the others were far from unprepared however, for from the moment the mutant white bear appeared, to the time when he caught sight of them and charged, they had been bracing themselves. Sir Lavison had sent on most of the others on down the pass, taking the horses and supplies with them. He and three other knights stayed and readied their weapons. The beast was still charging forward like an enraged boar, but most of the company was slipping away into the only slightly more safe pass.

  “Now, if we could just distract him long enough for the other’s to get well out of sight and smell.” Sir Lavison said.

  But the massive creature had stopped suddenly, and after briefly tasting the air, changed directions, almost as if he had heard Sir Lavison’s plan.

  Sir Lavison stabbed his blade viciously into the ground, “He's going after the others. Kessil, you follow him with Tenneth. Sir Ingot, you and I will cut him off from the front.” and they took off without another word.

  But the monster was fast and they could not get to him before he got to the others. When they caught up to the group the creature was just shifting to his back legs and began swiping at the horses with one of his great clawed paws, only to then have it stuck with arrows from three of the knights who had been able to quickly unfasten and string their bows. The white bear grumbled angrily and redirected his attack. In a moment, two of the archers were lying sprawled out on the ground. The one remaining bowman quickly emptied the contents of his quiver into the angry animal, but to no avail. Sir Lavison had already thrown his fist daggers and a small short knife and was now making mad dashes and slashing at whatever came his way. The other’s joined valiantly, attacking from all sides so as to distract the beast.

  And it was working. The monster was beginning to weaken from all the stabs and slashes, but it knew its own strength and size and used it effectively. He swung his heavy, clawed paws wildly around and swept down anyone who couldn’t jump out of the way in time. A few managed to jump out of the way, but not most.

  Throughout all this most of the servants had to stay hiding and helpless under whatever they could find to protect them since they had no experience to fight. They had to watch as the knights got flung around and mown over by the bear’s claws.

  But not Fife. Fife had experience with large game hunting and realized that he could actually be of some help. With a short nod to his cousin Teale who was trying to protect the more defenseless servants, Fife stepped up and grabbed a spear from the pile of supplies lying around and weighed it carefully in his hand. He'd never thrown one this large before but he'd have to give it a try nonetheless. He had to get in closer though, so he ran forward and without a second thought, gave the spear a hefty shove into the snow-filled air. He then gave a ferocious yell so as to get the creature’s attention away from the others and to improve the mark the spear would make. It worked beautifully and the spear sunk deep into the mutant bear’s chest.
The angry eyes began to glaze over in coming death, but right before it died, it bellowed angrily and made a last lunge towards Fife, clawed arms stretching for his killer.

  Sir Lavison wearily pulled himself up after having been knocked off his feet moments ago. He looked around as it was oddly quiet now. There was the white monster, lying crumpled and dead and already he could see the wolves gathering in the distance, panting as they anticipated their feast. He looked around at his companions who were picking themselves up, examining wounds, and relocating weapons that had been knocked out of their hands. Sir Lavison went over to the beast to ensure he was actually dead and saw a sad sight. Fife was there, under the claws of the monster, his body battered and torn, also quite dead. Sir Lavison didn't cringe or gag, but he did feel deeply sorrowful. He carefully extricated the body with a little help from some of the others and laid it out on the snow packed ground. Two others were laid out beside Fife, an archer and a knight, both of whom had been killed by the impact of the swinging arms and long claws.

  No one had any intention of leaving the bodies out for the wolves, so they took their much-coveted time, and dug a deep grave for the fallen. By the time the solemn procedure was done, it was dark and the wolves were becoming more daring.

  “Let’s move away from here.” Sir Lavison said wearily, “We'll find a spot to rest up out of this wind and let the wolves have their feast.”

  He turned into the biting wind which was painfully cold and sharp as it howled and rang down the ill-fated pass.

  —————

  Wild animal rage. It can be unpredictable, unreasonable, and unrelenting. It is a frightening thing to come across, but there is an anger much deadlier. There is an anger so long repressed that it has warped the soul of he who bears it. It is a mind wrapped in years of planning revenge and destruction, a rage both intelligent and heartless and full of venomous hate.

  And such a hate was brewing, as of yet unbeknownst to most of the world. They had their mighty castles to build and their border wars to fight, and did not see or credit the signs that a great danger was growing and flourishing in the darkness, its every move calculated and intentional.

  As the Western Guard turned at the banks of the Perla, one such small messenger of evil ran back to tell his master of the news. Deeper and deeper into the darkness the small creature sped, moving south and west until he reached the mountains. The Jagged Mountains were different here, this far south. They were wrapped in grey mists that hid some of the world’s oldest and evilest histories. And here, at their feet, rising from the nearest stoney outcropping, was quite the sight.

  A fortress was under construction, and by the look of it, it was to be quite a splendidly massive creation. The dark stone it was made of shone with a sort of ghostly hue as it rose out of the mountain’s foot and sent its tall spires into the darkening sky. It was beautiful and dark and strange all at once. Like an elaborate thorn of evil sprouting up out of the ground. But the little messenger ran past the fortress, and towards a great opening in the mountain itself. He entered the cave, whose walls were of the same dark rock that the fortress was made of, and ran on through the elaborate network of passages. He ran for a long time, through small rooms and large halls, lightly traveling up and down shallow, smooth stairs, passing other creatures and people as he sped silently along.

  Finally, he reached his destination, a black cavern lit eerily and filled with peculiar smells and sounds. All these he passed by as he quickly approached a form standing at a lectern and holding a shallow bowl.

  The small creature rasped something out for the ear of the stranger alone. The mysterious form straightened ever so slightly, set the bowl down, and turned to reveal an old woman, beautifully aged, but whose face was marred by fierce anger.

  “What must we pay for one man’s mistake? He got the punishment he deserved, but because of him, the Reaper will return. I think it is time.” and she turned back to face the bowl and the dark void of the cave behind it, “The queen is ill to death. The prince returns and the remnant of his company will pass by the forest soon. Falair and Thaxa are at war. Essa is as cold and distant as the north. It is time.”

  Perhaps she was talking to herself, or perhaps there was something in the darkness she was talking too, either way, she now turned back again to the small messenger at her side, “Tell Fin to prepare to head out. I'm going to send a little gift to his highness of Gailli.”

  The messenger dashed off without a word. The woman returned to her bowl and gazed down at the dark reflection of her face. She smiled and the look in her eye in that moment made the the wild rage of the mutant white bear seem quite tame.

  20

  A Happy Ending?

  James sat basking in the sun that didn't exist and dabbling his feet in water he only wished was there. He and Drift were back down out of the mountains and were relaxing now after the long trek.

  “You know,” James said lazily from the lofty rock he sat upon, “I might as well be honest with you, but I really don't know what I’m supposed to do next. I thought perhaps it might just ‘come upon me’ but it hasn't and I’m just as clueless as the day I woke up here.” and he sighed in a way that sounded as if perhaps this didn't bother him too much.

  Drift stood in silence, watching the distant Tanlyiere and all the land between it and them.

  “So, that said, I think I’m going to hand the responsibility of choosing what to do next to you, at least temporarily.” and James sighed again, turning his face up to the sky and closing his eyes.

  “I don't think you can just do that.” Drift said casually, and he walked over to his horse and checked all his straps and buckles, swinging lightly up after he'd assured himself of their security, “But for now, we’ll just retrace your steps for awhile.”

  James watched his companion from partly shut eyes. He wasn't ready to move on quite yet and found no problem in voicing his opinion.

  “Then I'll take the horses down to the creek myself to water them. You follow when you're ready. It's not far.” and Drift grabbed James’ horse’s reins and led it down towards a creek which ran cold out of the mountains.

  But James didn’t want to rest anymore, or rather, he didn’t want to rest unprotected, so with some difficulty he jumped off his boulder and landed hard on his feet. After brushing himself off, he quietly followed Drift.

  “You could get up on your horse if you want.” Drift shouted from far ahead, without looking back.

  “How does he do it?” James mumbled, and louder answered, “Nah, I'm fine,” and in an undertone added, “aside from having just bitten my tongue jumping off that rock.”

  He heard his companion chuckle from far in front of him and he frowned.

  James walked slowly, just keeping Drift barely in sight. He looked with some measure of enmity at the sparkling surface of the Ruid far off in the distance ahead. The little creek ran to meet it and dump its cackling waters into the deadly depths.

  “You deceitful river. I could've died in you, and all you can do is glitter and shine.”

  “Hardly, I had a sharp eye on you at all times.” the familiar voice carried back.

  James looked with amazement at the figure leaping off the brown horse and leading it towards the water's edge. Soon he found another suitable rock by the water’s edge and clambered atop it to rest.

  “You know, I actually have a question about that which I’ve been meaning to ask you.” and James took off his glasses and began to wipe them on his shirt.

  Drift was not given to probing and said nothing, knowing James well enough by now to know he'd proceed of his own accord.

  “At what point did you start following me? Was it before or after I joined the prince’s company? And did they ever see you in the whole time you followed them?”

  “Before. Aldarin knew you would join up with the prince, but didn’t know when, so I began tracking the prince before they had even left Hermin Druer. I ran into them once, just the prince and Sir Lavison, when
they took shelter from a storm in the same forest I was staying in. But to my knowledge, it never happened again, though it became more difficult when you joined, for you have very keen senses. Thankfully, they waved it off as your overly wrought nerves.”

  James plucked at a long weed and watched the horses slowly wind their way back up the bank towards the grass, “Why didn't you show yourself sooner then?”

  Drift leapt up on a large boulder and scanned the area, “I waited as long as I could. I didn’t want to risk your slipping up, but you would need to know eventually, and yet, you were so rarely ever on your own, I had to take advantage of the one time it did happen.”

  “Why’d you have to be so scary about it? Jumping me from behind and all? Why couldn’t you just walk out and introduce yourself like a normal person?”

  Drift shrugged but James thought he looked slightly amused.

  “Well then.” and James had nothing else to add.

  The travel in the following days was slow going and relaxed and James had the opportunity to enjoy the passing scenery. The creek close on their left and the towering Tanlyiere far off to their right. The Ruid too approached, as they neared to where it bent sharply from southward to east.

  After three days of this however, James was beginning to tire of it all, mostly because Drift’s company wasn’t as fun as the whole of the prince’s entourage. They had moved away from the river and had closed a bit of the gap between them and the Tanlyiere. They were traveling closer to the forest now, on very nearly the same route they had taken the first time round. It wasn’t long before they passed the spot where the Western Guard had crossed their path and had blazed straight for the Tanlyiere. James asked if they could stop there for a break so he could reminisce, but also because he would use whatever excuse he could to take a break. Drift didn’t seem to mind all the stops and distractions though, especially since they weren’t on a time schedule or anything.