Sons of the Lost

by Glynn James

  Leta looked up, then signaled Keana to crouch next to her. They both peered through the tall ferns and watched the pair approach.

  “The guards are on the other side of the clearing, near the trail. If we call them, those people will hear us too,” said Keana.

  “Yes,” said Leta. “But I don’t think we’re going to need them.” The woman stood up. Keana was about to grab her and pull her back down, but she was too slow. “Declan!” Leta shouted. “You are almost two weeks late reporting back! Jonah will not be pleased.” Then she was smiling and pacing through the trees towards the pair.

  Keana wondered who this new person with Declan was. It didn’t look like one of the scouts had left with him, which didn’t seem right. No, this new person was too short, maybe two inches shorter than she.

  Then the girl with Declan pulled off her hood and Keana almost leapt into the air. Instead, she hurried forward, unable to contain her joy, and threw her arms around Seren. “You’re alive! Oh, gods, you are! I knew you wouldn’t be gone, I just knew it,” Keana said, hugging her friend tightly. Seren hugged her back, unable to suppress a smile. “How? Where have you been? What happened. Tell me everything!”

  Seren sighed. “That is a very long story, maybe for another time—well, tomorrow. We really need to speak to Jonah, and soon.”

  It was then that Keana noticed that the dogs had surrounded them. She froze for a moment. Leta, who it seemed had realized that these were wolves and not dogs a few seconds before Keana had rushed to Seren, had stopped twenty feet away, her eyes wide as she watched the larger wolf move to stand between them and the pups.

  “Seren…” Keana started. She stood still, unable to move. Wolves. There were wolves around them, but somehow Seren wasn’t frightened.

  It was Declan, and not Seren, who spoke first. “You’ll get used to them pretty quickly,” he said. “Though it’s a bit un-nerving at first. I must admit I thought for the first few nights that I was going to not wake up the next day because Sorcha decided I was dinner.”

  “Sorcha?” asked Keana, with a frown. She relaxed a little, but it was difficult. Her instincts were still screaming at her to run.

  “This is Sorcha,” Seren said, bending down to nuzzle at the large she wolf’s head. “We met during the snow. We were trapped in the same place together, and it took a while, but we became friends. She isn’t that keen on many other people, though, but she knows not to be nasty.” She looked at the pups. “These we only just found. I think they must be orphans or something. Sorcha found them not far from where you all camped on your way here. We’ve been trailing you from Rocky Mount, though we came east first. We must have crossed trails at some point and missed you.”

  Leta coughed. “Of course,” she said. “Back in the ruins, not many days ago. Jonah and the others, they put together a plan to trap the wolf pack that had been attacking us. They got rid of the wolves. But there were no young ones among them.”

  Seren stood up, and glanced to Declan, who nodded. “And that would explain the blood in those ruins, and how these got left behind,” he said.

  “I’m not sure how father will take to having these around,” said Keana. “Wolves aren’t the most popular of things around the camp. We’ll have to spread the word or the guards will kill them if they are wandering about.”

  Seren looked worried. “If they can’t stay, I’ll have to take them away,” she said. “I’m not parting with Sorcha after everything we’ve been through. She’s my friend.”

  “I’ll talk to Father,” Keana said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  There was a shout from farther back in the forest, and Keana turned to see several of the warriors that had been sent with them to guard the foraging groups rushing through the trees, weapons drawn.

  Sorcha whined, and Seren quickly patted her side. The wolf moved closer to her, and the pups moved closer to Sorcha, somehow aware of the danger. By the time the guards were twenty feet away the wolves were huddled behind Seren.

  “Stop!” called Keana. “There is no danger, it is fine. This is a friend and these are her...pets. They are safe.”

  The four warriors stopped, and the leader glanced first at Leta and then back to Keana. “Are you sure?” He asked, his axe still drawn. “They look like wolves to me.”

  “That’s because they are wolves. But the girl insists the big one is trained,” said Leta, “and the others are just pups, they can be trained just as dog pups.”

  The warriors didn’t look convinced, but lowered their weapons. “Wait a minute,” one of them said. “You were Elk once, I recognize you. You left with Gaston and the others. You were all banished.”

  Seren didn’t answer.

  “I am right hand to Jonah,” Declan said, stepping forward from the tree where he was leaning. The warriors visibly relaxed upon seeing him. “I am traveling with Seren, and I will be speaking to Jonah on her behalf. She saved my life and deserves to be forgiven.”

  The first warrior nodded, but pointed at the wolves. “And what of these, chief?”

  “They are wolves,” said Declan. “Yes, they are dangerous. I’ve seen it myself. But this one is trained, just as Leta says.” He pointed at Sorcha. “The others are just pups. Imagine trained wolves? I thought it ridiculous at first, but this one has protected and helped me, after I was wounded and left for dead by Cygoa, as much as Seren has.”

  The warrior nodded. “You still have an injury? I can send for a cart to get you back to the camp and send word ahead. Jonah will be pleased that you are alive, and we have several doctors now.”

  “Please, do it,” Declan said, still leaning heavily on the crutch. “A rest from walking on this leg will be welcome.”

  Chapter 38

  Jonah looked down at the map. It was a large diagram, scratched and drawn onto a full sized adult deer skin with charcoal. Roads were marked clearly, along with areas of the old cities and lakes, covering the lands all the way from Eliz to the forest beyond Wytheville. In the far northwestern section of the map there was even a patch of blue and a small cross that marked the village, and it was this mark that he was staring at. Less than a year ago, maybe only ten changes of the moon in total, he had left that place. A small village on the edge of the settled lands. Everywhere beyond that was the wilderness, and unless you travelled far to the north for many weeks, through unsettled lands, you wouldn’t meet a single soul.

  Now half of the map to the west was chalked with red marks that showed the edges of the lands that the Cygoa had overtaken. All of the west, beyond Greensboro, was overrun. Scouts had returned from all directions, reporting the movements of the Cygoa warbands, and the enemy was spreading out, even in the north towards the mountains, all across the valleys and the forest lands, and their numbers were great.

  And here he was, having brought possibly most of the remnants of the eastern clans and the forest clans right to their doorstep.

  “But what choice do I have?” he asked, though no one else heard, for the command tent was empty apart from him, An hour ago he had stood with a dozen other prominent leaders, arguing the very same questions but finding no answers. To the west the Cygoa, and to the east, the Valk. To the north, the mountains and only the deadlands and the taint, and to the south much the same. There was no refuge, and over a thousand folk of the remnant clans looked to him for answers. Answers that he didn’t have. This place called Raleigh was the only place he could find in the lands that they may be able to hold, but it wasn’t far enough away from either of their enemies.

  “Judas would have taken the war one way or the other,” he muttered. “East or west. One enemy is no different to the other. They both can be killed.”

  He stood in silence, thinking of the years that stretched behind him. Blissful, ignorant years. Would that he could take it all back to that time.

  He tried to snap out of that thought and looked at the map again. There were places in the wilderness. Places to the north and the south where large areas of
land were wilderness and may not be tainted. One of those directions would have to be chosen, but either direction meant moving into unknown lands not far from the taint. The risk was high.

  He touched the book that lay on the makeshift bench that held the map. The book his father had given him. The word of the Elk.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said, this time slightly louder. “You lost half of your clan to Gaston, following him to the south. Following a dream of a new land, just because you were stubborn and wanted to keep your people on the right path. You could have chosen to listen to him, instead of insisting on your stupid book. If we had all gone south, maybe we could have escaped this. But in ignorance you took the same old path.”

  That path had been to walk to Eliz and back every year. He had been determined that it should remain so, and the traditions be kept, but now Eliz was no longer theirs. It was no longer anyone’s. Even the Valk appeared to be abandoning it. There would be no return to the city that now lay mostly in ashes and rubble.

  His mind swirled with unease and uncertainty. You let them go off and follow a dream, and you could have taken the whole clan there. They never came back, did they? Not as far as you know. For all you know they could be planting their crops on green fields.

  “Jonah,” said a voice behind him. He spun round, half expecting the shade of his own father to be standing there, come to judge him. It took him a moment to recognize Declan, who now stood in the entrance.

  “Declan?” he asked, confused for moment. This boy was presumed dead, and yet here he was. So it would be a different ghost that would come.

  “Are you well?” Declan asked. “You look pale.”

  Jonah blinked. This was no ghost.

  “You’re alive?” Jonah asked. “You made it!”

  Declan grinned and tapped his leg. “Yeah, I made it. Somewhat battered up, and a bit later than you asked, but I did it. Sorry. The scouts I went with…I lost some to the Cygoa. We were caught, and they injured my leg pretty badly.”

  Jonah stepped forward and hugged him, surprising Declan. Then he took a step back and held him at arm’s length. “I thought we’d damn well lost you, boy.”

  “Hey,” said Declan. “Less of the boy. I’m still a right hand, you know.”

  Jonah laughed. “Of course. But how the hell? The lands west are riddled with those damn Cygoa.”

  “I had a little help,” Declan said. “From someone you might remember.” He hobbled aside and pulled back the tent flap so that Jonah could see outside. Standing just outside the entrance, her face pale and concerned, was Seren. Jonah went to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. He found himself stuttering something, but it came out wrong. Then she was hugging him, arms tight around his neck, and he held her back, smiling, feeling the pressure of the day lifting as haunting questions were answered. It was then that he noticed the crowd gathered outside. Sasha and Keana were chatting and smiling, and Leta was standing next to them. She gave him an approving nod.

  “Well I guess that answers that question,” said Declan.

  Seren let go of Jonah and stepped back.

  “What question?” asked Jonah.

  “Whether she is allowed back in the clan,” said Declan.

  Jonah turned back to Seren. “There never was a question,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the ground. “It’s just… Roke. I couldn’t let him go alone.”

  “Forget it,” Jonah said, feeling the flood of relief wash over him. “You never left.”

  A cheer went up in the crowd. People clapped, and the silence that was in the glade a moment before became a busy hum of chattering and laughter.

  “We have news,” Seren said. “It can’t wait. We need to talk.”

  Jonah nodded. “Come in,” he said. “Both of you.”

  When they were seated in the command tent, Jonah walked over to the map, looked at it once, and then looked at Seren. “Tell me,” he said. “Everything.”

  Seren took a deep breath, and then recounted all that she could remember—the journey south, the sickness and the dying, her stay over winter, her travels east after the frosts subsided, the fate of the Elk who had followed Gaston, and finally what she found in the ruins of Galax. After she had finished, Declan took over, telling Jonah of his discoveries while scouting, how the rest of the scouts were lost, how Seren saved him, and finally of the army that now came west. He nodded at Seren, and she took out the gun. “This is one of the weapons that they have in Galax.”

  Jonah looked at the thing and frowned. He had seen such things before, but not often, and he remembered how they had been rumored to be powerful weapons once, many centuries before, but now they were relics, their fire dead. “A relic. No more. Surely?”

  “No,” said Seren. “I’ve used it. It takes things called bullets to fire.” She took out one of the bullets from the small pouch at her waist and handed it to Jonah, who examined it. “Those are why the old weapons no longer work. They need something to fire, just like a bow does, but instead of arrows they need bullets. At Galax they have them. I don’t have many, only what they could spare me.”

  Jonah turned the thing over in his hand and then gave it back. “Why did they give that to you?” he asked, pointing at the gun. “If these things are so powerful, why give one to you?”

  “They wanted me to stay, really,” she replied. “But when I said I had to leave, to warn you and the other clans of the Cygoa, and the taint, and everything I’ve learned, they said they wanted me to be safe so that I could guide others to them. They wanted me to return to them.”

  Jonah nodded. “This changes things,” he said. “With the Cygoa coming here, we can’t stay. I’d hoped we could stay for at least one year before moving on. I thought the Cygoa would be busy just surviving in our lands, not pushing so hard to face us. I will need to call a council and speak to the other leaders. We will have to move—”

  He was interrupted by the distant sounds of a horn blowing.

  “What’s that?” asked Declan.

  “An alarm. We built a barricade on both of the causeways and along the roads, and we keep all of them guarded. It’s an early warning. That’s three blasts, so it’s from the west causeway. Come—we have to go and find out what it is.”

  * * *

  Jonah halted just short of the causeway barricade and bent over, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Behind him, Solomon and several other warriors jogged across the blacktop. A dozen warriors stood atop the barricade, which had been hastily built using some abandoned carts and trees chopped from the nearby woods. Still, it was an impressive defense. There was a gate that normally stood open, but the guards had pulled it shut and were looking west across the blacktop, toward the forest on the other side.

  One of the warriors rushed to meet him and pointed across the lake. “We saw them just a short while ago,” the woman said. “A dozen or more. Moving through the trees toward the road. They was dressed like Cygoa. So we shut the gate. We just saw another group just off the road at the end of the causeway. There’s a lot of movement in the woods.”

  Jonah climbed the steps up to the top of the battlement. It was fifteen feet from the top of the wooden struts to the blacktop below. Far enough that a man couldn’t just jump up, but as Jonah looked at the length of the barricade, he wondered what the weaknesses could be. He had thought they had more time, and that he would be able to revisit the barricades and other defenses in the coming weeks, but now he looked across the causeway to the other side and saw shadows moving in the forest. Many shadows.

  “That isn’t just a scout group,” Solomon said at his side. “There’s too many.”

  “Then what?” asked the female warrior. “It could just be more than one group.”

  Jonah watched as more shadows moved through the trees until finally a small group walked out onto the blacktop and stood at the end of the causeway. Two of the figures hauled something from the trees. They then pulled it upright in th
e center of the blacktop. A tall pole, maybe thirty feet in height, rose up high, until finally a large sheet of cloth fell from the top and rolled down, revealing a large banner. Painted on the massive cloth, an eagle’s skull with an arrow jutting from the eye socket glared at them from across the causeway.

  “What news from the north causeway?” Jonah asked.

  “Nothing,” said another warrior. “No movement in the forest up there.”

  Jonah watched the movements on the other side of the causeway. It made sense. The other causeway was broken. It had mostly collapsed and fallen into the lake and would be difficult to cross. Plus they would have had to travel miles around the lake to reach it, whereas this causeway fed a blacktop road that was mostly untouched, and led all the way west and north back up to Greensboro, where scouts had claimed the movements of the Cygoa were thickest.

  “It could just be scouts,” said Solomon, but Jonah could sense the man wasn’t convinced of his own words.