Chapter 15
Conrad, John and Rhyll had gained a head start on The Watcher’s minions. Cohen had not died in vein. He had managed to delay the pursuit just long enough for the now depleted group to forge a small way ahead. They knew that there was no chance that they could outrun the wraiths. Rhyll and John had been tempted to run into the valley bellow the castle but the keen eyesight of Conrad had spotted the danger lurking below. A quick decision on the part of the thief saw them heading back along the path they had taken to get to the castle; in the cave on the cliffs. Here they waited until the danger passed. About half way between the castle and the Orc fields was a dense wood. It would be too dense to travel through at any great pace. However, no pursuer would be able to progress through the trees at a pace greater than the one they would set. It was a gamble but they hoped that the woods stretched far enough to see them clear of danger. John had given Isabelle to Rhyll to carry. He would not be slowed with the added burden of the child. Rhyll had dropped his bastard sword and many of his other weapons, instead using the holster as a sling for the child. The party ran for an entire hour before they arrived at the woods. Their pursuers were not very organised. Some had run passed them, some had returned, but they were spread far and wide. The party hoped they had not been spotted entering the woods.
“This is going to take forever.” Rhyll said forcing his feet through the thick undergrowth.
“Just keep going. I do not think we were spotted coming in here so it may be a while before anyone guesses that this is where we are.” Conrad replied not finding the terrain quite as tricky as his large barbarian counterpart. John simply followed Rhyll. He was keeping a sharp eye on Isabelle. There was no chance that he would let her out of his sight for even a second. Each step the party took was slow and cautious. Darkness fell as the sun set for the night. The wood was eerie and silent. It was if no creature could live in this environment. It was a dead wood. The lack of light gave the party no choice but to stop and rest for the night, for it was too tricky to proceed and Conrad dared not use his light crystal for fear of detection. Occasionally a scream could be heard. The wraiths were looking for them and getting increasingly frustrated with their lack of success. Little sleep was achieved that night. If the screams of the wraiths didn’t fill them with enough dread, the nagging fear that the goblins, creatures that could see clearly in the dark, would search the woods and find them. To each member of the party, the night seemed to last an eternity but for John this was especially true. Each second felt like a minute, each minute felt like and hour. The hours felt like days. This and the total darkness of the woods instilled a fear in him that he had never felt before. This was the longest night of his life. All he wanted was to be safely home, reunited with his father. The burden of ensuring Isabelle’s safety weighed heavy on his heart. All the while, his mind played out ‘what if…’ scenarios. He wondered if there was any possibility of getting off this island. He wondered if Rhyll, Conrad and he would have the energy to fend off another attack. All in all, he did not feel confident about completing his quest; and again, this brought forth the fear that he would disappoint his father.
Each person breathed a deep sigh of relief when the first rays of light emerged. They wasted no time in setting forth on their journey once more. As they prepared to leave, it was soon realised that there was a problem. The darkness had left the group feeling a little disoriented. They had no idea which way they were heading. They had to wait a little longer until the direction of the sunrise could be determined. It would be another two days and nights before they reached the eastern side of the wood, such was their slow pace. When they finally emerged from the dense forest, they realised that they had only just reached the southern end of the Orc fields.
“We spent all that time in that god forsaken wood and we are no better off than we would have been if we had just tried to avoid the Wraiths.” John said sounding rather angry. The slow pace had started to take its toll on the novice adventurer; they were also running out of water and food for the child.
“Our pursuers should have no idea where we are. That is a small comfort.” Conrad said trying to look for positives. “If anything is still in pursuit, they will assume we are much further across the island that we are. This should work to our advantage.”
“Those wraiths moved faster than the wind. If they were on our trail we would not avoid detection for long.” Rhyll added.
“Yes, we have masked our trail. If they discovered that we went into the woods and have tried to follow, they will be delayed as long as we were.” Conrad stated.
John was not convinced.
“We still need to get passed the Orcs.” He said negatively.
“That is true but we are faster than they. We have only one day’s travel to reach the ferry. We can run that. We must.” Conrad continued.
“We shall do it.” Rhyll shouted confidently. “We shall do it for Isabelle.”
This last statement filled John and Conrad with renewed determination. They had done the hard part. They had infiltrated Blackheart Castle and affected a rescue. They had managed to lose their pursuers and were within sight of the finish line. Rhyll led the sprint. They were not on the Orc fields themselves, opting to travel around the boundary, but they were within sight. It was only a matter of minutes before they were noticed. A screech went up from a small party of Orcs near to the edge of the field. This group tried to block the path of the adventurers. Rhyll had drawn his war hammer and swatted the Orcs aside like flies. As before, wave after wave of Orcs were heading in their direction. The party took little notice. They were focused on their task. They needed to reach the opposite side of the fields. After that they would make haste to the ferry. John was the only one to look around to see his pursuers. It may have been a trick of the light or maybe his fear causing his mind to hallucinate but he could have sworn that the Orcs were moving twice the speed that he was. His fear aided him. His legs were suddenly blessed with newfound vigour and haste. As the party neared the path at the other side of the Orc fields another shriek was heard piercing across the land.
“That was no Orc.” Rhyll said.
“It may be that the commotion caused by the Orcs has allowed the Wraiths to pick up our trail.” Conrad replied.
“Then let our legs carry us faster.” Rhyll was not speaking to his comrades rather voicing a prayer to the gods. A further hour had passed. Then they heard that awful sound again only this time worse. There was not but one shriek but many. The sound was far away but in their hearts they all knew what it meant. The Wraiths had picked up their scent and were on their way. With the distance they had covered and the distance that was left to the ferry, it would be touch and go whether they would make it. They were sprinting now; their fear had turned their quick run into a mad dash for the finish line. There was no place left to hide. They had reached the open plains and black beaches of the coast. It was now a simple drag race. John, Rhyll and Conrad were twitchy. They regularly cast glances over their shoulders to see if their pursuers were nearing. They had seen no sign so far. Finally, they saw a sight that filled their very souls with joy and relief. The ferry was now visible but still at least quarter of a mile away. The screams echoed over the plains. Rhyll peered over his shoulder and the feeling of joy he had felt but a moment ago, disappeared in an instant.
“They have caught us.” He said with worry in his voice. “We will not make it.”
“Keep going.” Conrad commanded. There was no doubt that he would not. Their pursuers were closing in rapidly. Each time one of the party glanced over their shoulder, the evil behind them had closed the gap even further.
“When we reach the boat, John, you prepare the ferry and cast off. Rhyll and I will hold off the Wraiths until we can depart.” Conrad commanded. Since Anree had died, he found himself being the voice of reason and authority. “Rhyll, give the child to John.” He continued.
Still in his stride, Rhyll pulled the child off his back and passed
it to John. They were nearly at the ferry, only a hundred metres to go when Rhyll and Conrad turned. The enemy had gotten too close. Now was the time to turn and fight. It was only when he faced his pursuers that he realised the futility of his actions. Conrad felt sick with what he saw. The twenty five Wraiths had multiplied. The Watcher had sent forth all the Wraiths under his command; two hundred in total. It was a small army; one that could not be defeated by two men. Rhyll was swinging his war hammer in wide arcs to ward off his attackers. Any who stepped inside the arc would be smashed aside. Conrad did the same with his sword. The pair backed away carefully so as not to upset their balance. One mistake and they would be slain. John prepped the ferry with great haste. He focused hard to make sure he didn’t falter.
“We are ready, let’s go.” He screamed to his overwhelmed comrades. It was too late though. The wraiths had charged. Conrad and Rhyll were busy fighting for their lives and could not break free. John desperately looked around for a way to help his friends. He could have waded into the fray but he realised the futility of that idea. He looked at Conrad’s belt to see if he had any light potions remaining. None could be seen. Isabelle made a sound. John looked round and then an idea came to him.
“Bait.” He said with a hint of guilt in his voice.
“Stop.” He called to the wraiths. The battle continued. Nobody had heard John over the din of steel meeting steel. John tried again, “Stop now or the child dies.” A piercing hiss sounded from one of the Wraiths. As the Wraiths ceased their attack, Conrad and Rhyll backed off to where John was standing, the baby held high above his head with the point of a blade at her throat.
“Back away now or we all lose the child. I have more kin at home. The loss of a child will not cause us to grieve for long. She is important to you though.”
Conrad and Rhyll looked on in shock and horror. The look in John’s eyes convinced them both that he was serious. John was twitching his head in the direction of the boat. It had not been noticed. He continued, this time exaggerating the movement.
“It’s a ruse.” Conrad began in hushed tones. Conrad placed his arm across Rhyll’s chest and slowly began to retreat in the direction of the boat. John maintained the stand-off until the others were safely inside.
“Come on, John.” Rhyll shouted breaking the tense silence that had ensued. John backed away very slowly. He held the blade against his sister’s throat the whole time. The wraiths dared not advance. The last command given to them by The Watcher stated:
“If it comes down to a choice between losing the child or killing the child, let it go. We can play the waiting game.”
John jumped into the ferry. Rhyll began rowing with all his might. As they moved away the wraiths screamed as one. The sound was as chilling as it was deafening. The sound spurred Rhyll to pull harder and faster. They were not out of danger. The ghost ships were nearby. Rhyll would not relax his pace until they were well away from Cursed Isle.
By the time the light faded, they were well clear of danger. Rhyll stopped rowing, exhaustion overwhelming him. He lay back trying to draw air into his lungs.
“It looks like we are safe.” Conrad said at last. “You have a rest, Rhyll; I will take over the rowing duties.” Rhyll swapped places in the boat and collapsed. He was asleep instantly.
“You had me worried for a moment back there.” Conrad said to John.
“I am surprised you had the time to worry about me. I would have thought you had enough to worry about with all those wraiths.”
“The look in your eyes when you were holding that blade to your sister; it frightened me. I thought you were genuinely going to kill her.”
“Perhaps I was.” John began with a hint of resentment in his voice. “We have gone to all this trouble. Anree and Cohen are dead. It may have been easier to kill Isabelle and be done with it.” John was close to tears. He had anger and hate within him.
“Do you despise one so innocent because you have lost a friend?” Conrad asked.
“I despise the fact that people have died to protect my family. What have we done to deserve that? More so, what has this child done that is worthy of the loss of two brave and noble people?”
“She has done more than you know.” Conrad said more forcefully. “She has given purpose and meaning to one young man. Cohen was nothing more than a spoilt, headstrong brat when you met him. He was worse when I encountered him a year earlier. Your sister provided him with a purpose, a goal in life. Your quest became his. You were his only friend and he died to protect that friendship. Would you have denied him that?”
“No, but what of Anree; what did she gain?” John was now weeping freely.
“She fulfilled the vows she made to her gods. She died saving a life. For the priestesses, this is the only way to be accepted into a higher state of consciousness. She is not dead. Her spirit now lives on as a goddess.”
“How do you know this?”
“I listen and do not judge. There are many things in this world that are nearly unbelievable. With an open mind, even the unbelievable can seem possible.”
The conversation died. John wept for a long time. Conrad knew that everything had been an ordeal for him. He also knew that John would become stronger for it. For now though, John needed to let his emotions escape. Conrad turned his attention to Rhyll. Rhyll had been snoring since falling asleep but as each minute passed, the volume rose by ten decibels.
“The only thing I need to escape it this infernal noise.” Conrad thought.
He rowed faster.
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Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos) Page 17
