Rhoyan raised his sword and began to cut through the tent. The fabric came apart easily, falling back before his blade without argument. Rhoyan stuck his head cautiously into the tent and peered through the darkness. He saw that his guess had been very close to the mark. Calla lay a bit further to his left, and there were several more dark shapes that Rhoyan guessed were seheowks to his right.
Creeping into the tent after telling Dru to alert him if he saw any type of movement at all, Rhoyan picked his way through the sleeping bodies. He moved as stealthily as he could, holding his breath as he made his way over to Calla. At one point the toe of his boot accidentally scraped the side of a seheowk. The creature rolled over and made a noise. Rhoyan froze; if the creature opened its eyes he was finished. The seheowk did not wake, however, and Rhoyan continued on till he reached Calla. Kneeling down, he placed his hand over Calla’s mouth. She awoke with a start, but Rhoyan gently placed a finger to his lips and she understood. Calla raised her bound hands over his shoulders and Rhoyan carried her out into the rain.
“Come on,” Dru said as they emerged from the tent. “Let’s get out of here before we wear out Cruithaor Elchiyl’s blessing.”
The climb up the cliff was more treacherous going up as the rain had made everything slick and washed away some of the handholds, but they made it without incident.
“How did you find me?” Calla asked quietly when they reached the top.
“We followed your calls for help,” Rhoyan explained.
Calla’s face was a swirl of confusion in the flashing lightning. “I didn’t call for help,” she said. “I mean, I called for you at first, but I was quiet once I saw the seheowks. When they caught me they hit me on the head and I was unconscious until we got back to their camp.” She shivered a little, partly at the memory and partly because of the wet. The canopy of trees above them did little to stop the driving rain. She raised a hand to her head where they had hit her and her face twisted in pain.
“But we followed your voice…” Rhoyan began.
Calla stared up at him, fear in her eyes. “It was a trap,” she breathed. “This whole thing, it’s a trap! We must run, now!” She seemed about to rise up and dash off into the trees but Rhoyan caught her hand and kept her from running off.
“Hold on a moment there,” Dru said kindly. “What do you mean?”
“The seheowks know about the star, they tried to talk to me when I woke up…” Calla shuddered violently. “Their language is horrible, but the worst part about it was that I could understand them,” she swallowed hard and continued, “I think they communicate more with thoughts than words. It’s easy to understand them when they are focused, most of their words are just different images for various sorts of death and destruction…” she shook herself and continued. “It was a lot harder to understand when they were all trying to talk at once, I’d only get bits and pieces of what they were trying to say. Everything they talked about was covered over with a shadow of fear.”
“Fear?” Rhoyan asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
“They seemed to be deathly afraid of fire.”
“But there weren’t any fires in the camp,” Dru pointed out.
“Yes, that’s why it seemed so strange that they were talking about it. But they are terrified of it.”
“That information could come in useful later,” Rhoyan said. “What else happened?”
Calla shook herself and took a deep breath before she spoke again, “They drew pictures in the sand, trying to get me to understand them. It wasn’t hard to discover that they wanted the star, but it was a little more difficult to figure out how they thought they could get it. They think you ate the star, Rhoyan, and they believe it is giving you power. They want to … to…” Calla trailed off, her throat closing on the horrible words, but she forced herself to go on, “they believe that if they eat you, the power of the star will pass on to them. They think it could help them overcome their fear of light and fire. At least I think that’s what they meant, a lot of their speech was pretty muddled, and it was so ghastly... I didn’t want to understand them.”
Dru whistled. “We should keep moving. Rhoyan, if they were expecting us to come rescue Calla, then our presence here will not go unnoticed much longer.”
“Yes, this storm will give us cover for a little while longer; we must get back to the path,” Rhoyan replied.
As Rhoyan stepped forward to lead the way Calla suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. Taken a bit by surprise, Rhoyan cautiously hugged her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “I felt so helpless back there, but somehow I knew you would come.” She kissed him on the cheek and he felt his face flush red, but her quick smile was like the dawning of the Dragon’s Eye. Rhoyan felt suddenly awkward. He shrugged in embarrassment and ducked his head, not quite knowing what to say.
Morning found the three travelers struggling through a thick hedge of tangled bushes and thorns. The storm had blown itself out an hour or so before dawn, and they had not seen any signs of the seheowks. None of them quite believed their flight had gone unnoticed by the evil creatures, but all of them hoped that it was so.
“The path is just ahead,” Rhoyan said, wiping his brow and hacking at yet another tangle of branches.
“How can you tell?” Calla asked.
“Because the forest is telling me so,” Rhoyan answered. “We cannot rest until we reach the path. The seheowks are still a threat as long as we are not on the path.”
“The forest is speaking to you? Really, Rhoyan, are you all right?” Dru asked.
Rhoyan’s expression was serious. “I can’t explain it, but the forest hates the seheowks as much as we do. It’s more a whispering of the wind or a rustling of the leaves that I hear, but it is directing me. The forest is uneasy, it doesn’t really want us to find the path, but it doesn’t want the seheowks to find us either. So far, its hatred of the seheowks is greater than its hatred of us.”
“Well then, let’s keep moving,” Dru urged.
“Rhoyan!” Calla exclaimed in a tone that struck a chill into Rhoyan’s heart.
He turned, half-expecting to see something awful racing after them, but instead he just saw a look of pure dismay on Calla’s sweet face. He stared in confusion. “What is it?”
“It’s the fourth day,” she whispered. “Captain Murry has probably set sail without us.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as the truth of her words rolled over them in a wave.
“He couldn’t have set sail in such a storm as the one we came through last night,” Dru’s tone was optimistic. “Perhaps the weather will convince him to give us an extra day. Either way, we have no way of knowing until we are within sight of the ocean. We must continue on with hope or we will die here.”
“You are right, my friend, we must press on,” Rhoyan agreed.
A few moments later the forest cried out a warning, but Rhoyan did not heed it. He raised his sword to chop through a great, thorny vine that blocked their way when he heard a twang and a gentle hiss followed by a sound that froze the blood in his veins: Calla’s voice crying out in pain. He spun around in time to see her falling. Time slowed in his thoughts as understanding raced to his heart, but his body reacted with accelerated purpose. He lunged forward and caught her gently. Dark blood blossomed out from the spot where the arrow had pierced her back and Rhoyan felt a great pain in his heart, for he knew the wound was fatal. The look on the girl’s face was one of more surprise than pain, and she stared up at Rhoyan as though confused. He sat down, sinking carefully to the ground and holding her close to him as though he thought he might be able to shield her from death, or perhaps take her pain unto himself.
“Calla?”
She sighed deeply and rested her head against his shoulder. “Forgive me Rhoyan,” she breathed.
Rhoyan shook his head wordlessly. “For what?”
“I lied to you. I was supposed to st
op you from escaping our camp, back in Yochathain,” she whispered. “I learned to speak Gryphonese when I was a child, my mother taught me. My father sent me to spy on you, he saw something different about you and he wanted to know what it was; he suspected that you were some kind of royalty, but he could not understand you. When I heard you talking I told him I could understand your language, I tried to bargain with him, to get out of having to marry Count Willem. He agreed.”
Rhoyan stared down at her. “But you said… you mean you understood…?” he shook his head, confused and unable to finish a sentence.
Calla nodded weakly. “We understood each other the whole time. I continued teaching you my language so that you wouldn’t grow suspicious, and then…” a spasm of pain shook her and she breathed deeply, “something happened that was out of my control.
“I was going to turn you in, I was. I truly meant to hand you over to my father that night. I followed you, fully intending to raise the alarm, but I… I couldn’t,” Calla gasped, tears filling her eyes. “You were the first person to ever listen to me, to speak to me as though you cared about what I thought… and I fell in love with you for it. That was the one thing I could not control,” her blue eyes glistened with pain and regret. “I only wish I had told you sooner,” she sighed quietly. “Forgive me.”
Rhoyan’s thoughts were a turmoil of emotions, but none of these things showed on his face; instead, he gazed down at the dying girl with quiet compassion. “There is nothing to forgive.”
Calla’s eyes took on a glazed look and her face became peaceful. Rhoyan clutched her tightly for a moment as though to prevent her spirit from soaring away, then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. She stared up at him contemplatively, the haze clearing from her eyes briefly; there was a look of quiet sorrow on her face.
“So kind…” she breathed, “so kind.”
Rhoyan bit back the lump forming in his throat. “Calla,” he whispered brokenly, “I….” Tears began to well up in his dark eyes.
“Don’t cry for me, Rhoyan,” she whispered with an effort.
“Don’t go then.”
“It’s not … my choice.”
The effort it took to speak now seemed to cost her greatly and she fell silent once more. With difficulty, she reached up to touch his face. His hand came up and caught hers, trapping it, and he swallowed his tears, attempting to hide them from her. Calla gazed at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and then her breath gave out and her eyelids fluttered shut for the last time.
Another arrow twanged, but Rhoyan dove out of the way, allowing the deadly bolt to fly harmlessly past him. Shouting to Dru to be careful, Rhoyan dove under the protection of the hedge. Dru crawled underneath the tangled mass of branches as well, and they stayed there for a moment, breathing hard. They were given but a moment to catch their breaths, and then the area around them shook. With a noise like thunder the hedge was suddenly surrounded with howling creatures of darkness. Rhoyan and Dru pushed themselves to their feet and stood back to back, swords drawn. Dru lit the torch he had been carrying and handed it to Rhoyan.
“They fear fire!” he hollered.
The seheowks stared at them warily, as though uncertain of their opponents’ strength. They were reluctant to come near the fiery brand, ducking their heads and hiding their eyes whenever they happened to get too close to its light. Rhoyan gazed steadily at the mass of creatures, his face showing none of the turmoil within. An impatient seheowk sprang at him. Rhoyan cut at the creature with his blade. The seheowk howled and sprang back, screaming at him in its foul language. Rhoyan shuddered as he heard the words and felt the meanings sink into his mind. In that moment he understood what Calla had told him about how the creatures communicated by sending each other pictures. Though he did not understand the words, their meanings flashed at him with stunning clarity and he stumbled backwards under their force. He felt sickened by the darkness of the creatures and he felt stained by their words. He had never faced seheowks in a group before, never heard their language, and it threw him off balance.
With a yell, Rhoyan hurled himself at the nearest group of seheowks. He slashed wildly with his sword and thrust his torch into their faces. The creatures screamed in pain and rage and fell back. Rhoyan sprang back to where Dru was standing, breathing hard as his blood lit into flames within him.
“Purity,” Rhoyan muttered under his breath. Instantly the images in his mind faded and he was able to think clearly once more. “They are coming,” he whispered to Dru. “Be ready.”
The thief nodded and took a deep breath, readying himself for the attack. The moment swelled with expectation, and then the fury broke loose. The creatures leapt at the two men who stood back to back in the middle of the thorny brambles. Rhoyan and Dru met the creatures with their blades and Rhoyan swept his blazing brand through the darkness. The first wave of seheowks fell to their attack with shrieks and howls of pain and anger. The creatures shied away from the fire, cowering before it as though their darkness could not stand to be so near to something so bright. But even the torchlight could not hold them back forever.
Wave after wave of the dark creatures burst upon the two men and now Rhoyan was bleeding from many different wounds and both men were tiring. Rhoyan knew they could not hold out much longer. Even as he twirled his blade and thrust his torch into the dark faces he could feel himself failing. Every movement cost him another bit of energy and soon he would be at the end. Already the seheowks were getting smarter, coming at them in quick strikes and then darting back out again, forcing Dru and Rhoyan to expend their waning strength.
“I cannot keep this up much longer,” Dru shouted.
“Neither can I,” Rhoyan panted.
The ground around them was littered with the bodies of fallen seheowks, but the number of their enemy did not diminish. Rhoyan stared out at the mass of creatures and his heart leapt. His face lit with roguish delight and he laughed.
“If we are to die here, let’s take them all with us!”
Dru stared at the bleakness of their situation and felt himself buoyed up by Rhoyan’s words. “Aye!” he yelled back. “We’ll give them something to remember in song. Let’s make a stand they won’t soon recover from!”
Rhoyan’s feral grin widened. He set his shoulders and held up his torch. The seheowks paused, faltering in the face of their enemy’s sudden change in posture. Rhoyan’s eyes became dangerous and his expression grew deadly. Then he took his torch and, swinging it casually, he set the underbrush around him on fire. Inexplicably, despite the torrential rains of the previous night, the dead branches and thorns blazed up in a searing inferno. A gust of wind sent the flames raging wrathfully straight into the ranks of seheowks. Dozens of the dark creatures were caught in the blaze and seared from existence. Those who were further back in the ranks howled in terror and turned to flee the hungry bite of the fire. Rhoyan grabbed up a thick branch and ripped a part of his cloak off, winding it around the end of the branch. He lit the end of it on fire and handed it to Dru with a careless smile.
“Good-bye,” he said in a jaunty, cavalier tone.
Dru took the torch saluted as he moved away, leaving a river of fire in his wake. Together, the two men cut through the ranks of seheowks, fire trailing behind them as though wet underbrush was its natural habitat. The creatures scrambled away from the flames with hideous cries, blood-curdling screams, and wails. The fire lapped hungrily at the forest and flew over the seheowks in greedy waves. Nothing could outrun the flames, though they threw themselves out of the way with utter abandon and panic. The forest seemed to direct the path of the fire, for the flames raced after the seheowks with relentless intent.
A few moments later, the seheowks were gone. They died shrieking as the rampaging wildfire washed over them. When the last of the dark creatures lay charred and smoking on the ground the fire flared up and suddenly died, leaving Rhoyan and Dru alone and unharmed in the center of the ashes. Rhoyan low
ered his sword in defiance and sorrow, and a strange amount of wonder.
“We’re alive!” Dru suddenly exulted, but there was a question in his voice, as though he was not altogether sure his statement was true.
“Yes,” Rhoyan responded, “we are alive.”
“Rhoyan,” Dru said suddenly, “look! The forest protected her, too.”
Rhoyan gazed at the spot Dru was pointing to and his spirits lifted. The forest had kept the fire away from Calla’s body, and she lay where she had fallen, untouched by the flames. Rhoyan’s eyes were filled with tears and he felt as though there was a rock in his throat.
“Thank you,” he whispered to the great trees.
There was a quiet rustling and Dru stared at his friend in concern. “What was that?”
“Not seheowks,” Rhoyan said softly, “just the forest.”
“Let’s leave this place,” Dru muttered, “I don’t like it.”
“It saved our lives.”
“Aye, it also tried to take them,” Dru reminded him.
“There is nothing to fear here,” Rhoyan insisted. “But you are correct, we should not tarry here longer.”
Rhoyan sheathed his sword and lifted Calla’s body from where it lay. He stood for a moment, bent by his burden, there was pain and sorrow in his dark eyes, but there was fire there as well. After a moment he straightened and strode ahead purposefully.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
“Ah, good morning, Jhasen,” King Stiorne said. His eyes appeared brighter than they had in weeks and he was sitting upright in his bed. Jhasen looked delighted as he bowed his head respectfully.
“You are looking much better today, Sire,” he said. “Forgive my saying so, but for a while there I thought I had lost my talent for healing.”
“One such as yourself does not lose the ability to heal,” King Stiorne said, smiling.
Second Son (The Minstrel's Song Book 2) Page 24
