His thoughts cleared by the beauty and serenity of his surroundings, Skylar forgot his previous danger and remembered the others. Where had they gone? He was about to ask Grim when the guide suddenly struck off from the path which he’d been following and made for a thick cluster of trees and undergrowth. The vegetation looked no different than any of the other dense areas of the woods. As they drew near it, however, Skylar distinctly heard the low murmur of voices and the grunting of some creature or beast wholly unknown to him.
He followed Grim, who navigated his way through vines and branches until he came around the far side of the trees. When as last Skylar caught up to Grim, he found the reticent guide standing at the threshold of an opening, like a crude doorway into the trees and bushes. Grim motioned for him to enter.
The opening led them into a small clearing within the trees, no larger in girth than the quarters where they had slept the previous night. The clearing was likewise occupied as that room. Krom, Endrick, and Lasseter were all inside, packing the saddle-bags of several beasts, which resembled the one which had nearly trampled him under-hoof.
There were five of these shaggy animals, tethered to the trees, lazily chewing feed supplied by a makeshift trough of branches and bark lashed together with vines.
“That one is yours,” said Grim, indicating a beast with sable hair. “Best saddle her up and pack your things, my prince.”
Skylar nodded, then approached the feeding from behind. For several moments, he stood beside the animal, unsure what to do. Finding something that looked like a saddle resting on a nearby tree limb, he laid it across the animal’s back. The animal briefly lifted its muzzle from the feeding trough and turned it in Skylar’s direction, flicking its tail. The animal gave no more protest than that, and soon returned both its head and tail to their prior positions.
“Are you planning to ride facing her rear?” asked Endrick, having looked up from his own saddle. “Not that she would mind. But you might look a trifle odd.”
Skylar looked at the saddle of Endrick’s animal, then back at his own. Endrick grinned and nodded. Flushing slightly at his mistake, Skylar picked up the saddle and turned it to face the opposite direction. It was obvious, now that he inspected it more carefully, that this was the proper placement for it.
“That’s the way,” said Endrick. “Don’t worry, my first time saddling a paqua I forgot to tighten the straps. As soon as that paqua took a turn, the saddle slipped and I went crashing to the ground. I still bear a scar just above my right eyebrow where I hit a stone.”
“Paqua,” replied Skylar. “Is that what they are? I think my cloak is made out of their fur.”
“Likely so. Paquas are only good for their fur, and sometime for carrying burdens. They only know one speed: slow. Don’t expect this to be a fast-paced journey.”
Soon the paquas were all saddled and ready. The companions led their mounts out of the clearing and along an unmarked trail. After a short distance, the narrow path ran into a broad road. There, they mounted their paquas and set off deeper into the forest.
The companions journeyed along their wooded path in silence, except for the occasional subdued song from Grim. None of which were songs Skylar had ever heard before, yet somehow they whispered familiar memories to him. In one Grim sung of a place called Elydar. And such an inexplicable yearning it produced within Skylar’s heart that he ventured to ask the companion where Elydar was. Grim kept on singing, as though he could not hear him, as though his mind and heart were in another place and time.
Endrick had indeed told the truth about the paquas. Only time seemed to pass more slowly than the trees around them. They had ridden the entire day, stopping only briefly at midday to water the paquas and eat a small repast.
Skylar’s backside was sore from the saddle, his back ached from sitting all day, and his heart yearned for answers to the questions in his mind. Could all this be real? Krom had told him they were heading north to seek help from the Mauwik. But who the Mauwik were and why they needed their help, he didn’t know. And part of him did not want to know.
Finally nightfall came and Krom called a halt for the day. Skylar dismounted with great relief. After an unsatisfying dinner, Skylar laid out his bed cloth and fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of Kendyl, the docks, Kindor, his mother.
The next day they came to a village. Before entering Krom warned Skylar to remain inconspicuous.
“The soldiers out here are unlikely to bother anyone traveling north,” he explained. “None travel north by this road but for traders and lowly merchants. Still, do not let your mind be at ease. These soldiers can be as unscrupulous as their master. Be wary.”
With these last words of caution, the little band of travelers fell into silence, their paquas plodding lazily along.
Skylar had not expected to see much of interest in the village. More than once, Lasseter had taken him to visit smaller mining units on Haladras. They were always unimpressive, sparse; scarcely more than small clusters of simple dwelling houses. Yet even this exposure failed to prepare him for the scene which met his eyes.
The merchant shops and dwelling houses were in a state of total disrepair. Broken windows, roofs riddled with holes, missing panels, and sagging doors plagued most of the buildings. Here and there, charred remains of a building burned to the ground left heart-rending gaps in the row of dilapidated structures.
“Work of the soldiers,” whispered Grim, who had ridden up next to him. “Try not to stare too much.”
Skylar nodded and did his best to avoid appearing so deliberate in his observations. He couldn’t let off looking, though; it astonished him to see such poverty. The people of the village, if it could be possible, looked in worse condition than their buildings. More lifeless than the wretched souls he’d seen in Amrahdel, these people were badly marred with broken legs or arms, bandaged heads, bloody feet or bruised faces. The men were particularly battered. And they seemed fewer in number.
Skylar watched the people pass by with horror and pity. It felt as if an awful dream were sweeping over him.
As they neared the far edge of the village, Skylar noticed a young maiden, about his own age, walking swiftly along the muddy street side. Though her clothes were ragged and torn, her face stained with dirt, she possessed a certain beauty which could not be blighted.
His eyes followed her as she went along. He detected from way she walked that she was afraid of something. But he couldn’t see anything that should inspire fear in her.
Suddenly, from out of a narrow alleyway, a soldier emerged. His eyes were fixed on the damsel, his face contorted like a hungry animal’s.
“Come ‘ere my pretty wench,” he called out to her, his voice coarse and menacing.
The poor girl did not even turn to look, but quickened her pace to a run. The soldier bounded after her with long powerful strides. In a moment he was upon her and snatched up her wrist in his hand. Thrashing and screaming, the girl struggled desperately to free herself. Like a vice, his hand stayed clamped onto her wrist. The soldier raised his free hand and brought a heavy fist down across her face, sending an awful wail, like the howling of a beaten dog, from her bloody lips.
“You keep quiet!” snarled the soldier, “or you’ll get much worse.”
Frantic, the maiden pleaded for help. No one heeded her cries. Indeed, the villagers had mysteriously evaporated from the streets. Again the soldier raised his hand to strike.
“Stop it! Let her go!” The words escaped from Skylar’s mouth as if by their own volition.
The soldier turned and cast a scornful glance at the companions, then began dragging the wailing girl toward an alleyway. Skylar was off his paqua in an instant, running after them.
“No! Come back, boy. It’s not worth it.” The commanding voice of Krom reached his ears, but he didn’t listen. His mind was wholly engulfed with the matter at hand. Enraged by what he knew the soldier intended to do, he charged at him from behind, unsure what he would do once he reach
ed him.
Heeding his instincts, Skylar leaped up and wrapped his arms around the soldier’s neck. The soldier’s neck was massive, and Skylar strained with all his might to constrict it. The soldier tried to shake him off or throw him off with his free hand. Skylar held fast.
Aggravated by Skylar’s persistence, the soldier’s focus waned from his prey. In a moment of folly, his grip loosened on the girl. Like a wild cat, she tore away from him and set off running. Infuriated at losing the girl, the soldier renewed the fight with doubled strength. Taking Skylar by the arms with both his hands, he ripped him from off his back and hurtled him headlong to the ground.
“I’ve had enough of you—little pest,” said the soldier, removing the blaster from its holster and aiming it at Skylar. “You’ll not bother me or anyone any longer.”
Skylar caught his breath and froze. The blaster was leveled at his head.
Suddenly, the soldier lurched forward and tumbled to the ground.
“Get away from here,” Grim urged, preparing to engage the soldier in hand-to-hand combat.
Skylar made toward the open street, out of the alley. Coming just behind Grim, were the rest of the companions.
“Get to safety! Head for the forest,” Krom shouted.
Skylar turned down the road and instantly understood the concern. Running up the road, blasters in hand, were five more soldiers.
The soldiers came to a halt, leveling their blasters at the three companions.
“Don’t move!” ordered one of the soldiers. “Who are you? What’s all the commotion about?”
“Nothing that hasn’t already been dealt with, Lieutenant,” replied Krom in a calm, commanding tone. “A maiden was accosted. We’ve corrected the matter.”
“I don’t see any maiden,” said the lieutenant. “What business is it of yours anyway? We don’t like strangers causing trouble in our village.”
Just as Krom made to respond, sounds of the scuffle between Grim and the first soldier escaped from the alleyway.
“What’s going on here,” demanded the lieutenant, pushing aside Krom and striding past the three companions. The other soldiers remained with their blasters pointed at the three companions.
Skylar was still standing near the alleyway when the lieutenant came over to investigate the source of the noise.
“Get out of my way.” The lieutenant pushed Skylar so forcefully that he fell to the ground, where he fumed angrily.
The surly lieutenant stepped into the mouth of the alleyway. At once he understood the source of the commotion.
“Stop! What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Before him, the first soldier lay face down in the mud, struggling against the cords which now bound his hands and feet. Grim crouched beside him, preparing a gag for the soldier’s mouth.
“Shoot the scoundrel!” shouted the humiliated soldier, disregarding the lieutenant’s higher rank.
The lieutenant raised his blaster and leveled it at Grim, who stared back, not a trace of fear in his eyes.
“Shoot him!”
Desperately, Skylar clawed at the rain-sodden earth and dislodged a fist-sized stone. In one rapid motion, he took to his feet and launched the stone at the lieutenant. It struck him squarely in the back of the head. The lieutenant whirled around, his face livid with rage.
Skylar did not wait for the lieutenant’s reaction. As soon as the rock struck, he threw back his cloak and took his jetwing in both hands. He was off the ground in an instant, rocketing high above the street, hoping to draw the soldiers away from his companions.
Cursing, the lieutenant aimed his blaster at Skylar. No sooner had he done so than Grim sprang forward and pounced on him. That same moment, Krom, Lasseter and Endrick attacked the soldiers guarding them. Within moments, all four were disarmed, the sharp points of swords hovering around their throats.
By the time Skylar returned to the ground the five soldiers had been moved to the alley and bound together. Skylar marveled to see his companions all with bright steel blades in their hands.
Why do they have swords?
The companions were discussing what to do with the captive soldiers.
“We must dispense with them,” said Krom, conferring quietly with Lasseter.
“No,” objected Lasseter.
Krom pulled Lasseter farther aside and spoke in a hushed, but urgent voice.
“They are too dangerous to our mission. We cannot allow them to tell anyone of us. It would be unwise.”
“There is always wisdom in mercy, dear friend. Killing them will do little to hide our presence here. One of these villagers will surely betray us once the empire investigates the death of five of its soldiers. No, let us spare every life we can.”
Krom’s lips tightened. He nodded curtly, then turned away.
“Let us be off quickly, then, before the storm overtakes us.”
He strode out of the alleyway. Skylar and the others followed.
Once far away from the village, the companions dismounted their paquas and sent the lazy beasts walking down the road, riderless.
“We’ll have to leave the road and keep to the forest,” said Krom. “It will slow our journey, but we can’t risk being followed. No doubt, the soldiers will try to track us.” Then he pointed a hard finger at Skylar. “Perhaps next time you’ll follow orders. That damsel was not worth the danger you put yourself into.”
Skylar did not protest, but merely scowled and watched as Krom shouldered his pack and led their little band deeper into the forest.
“If it’s any consolation, my prince,” came the voice of Grim from his side, “I thought it was bravely done.”
They camped that night within a small clearing in the forest. Krom forbid them from lighting a fire. And so they quickly ate a cold supper and laid out on their bed cloths in hopes of falling asleep before it grew too cold.
Skylar lay on his back, staring up into the dark canopy above. His thoughts felt too heavy to let him sleep. So many questions still taunted him.
“Are you asleep, my prince?”
Grim’s voice was no louder than the gentle rustle of leaves in the night breeze. So quiet that Skylar wondered if he hadn’t imagined the voice in his head.
Skylar turned his head slightly.
“No,” he said, trying to make his voice as quiet as Grim’s.
“You asked me about the song which I sang this morning, about Elydar...,” he said. “I did not answer you then because I would have done you an injustice. Sometimes words get in the way of understanding.”
There was a pause.
“Elydar is a planet,” continued Grim. “Where? I do not know. Nor do I know if any man knows. Prophets of ages past wrote of it. They say it is the planet closest to the dwelling place of the Spirit King, ruler of all the stars and galaxies. They say that Elydar is the greatest of all planets, beautiful beyond comprehension, where peace always reigns. Time even is different there. A thousand years for us is but one day on Elydar. So that a man may live for millennia ere he grows old and dies.
“When I was but a lad, my mother would sing to me that same song. It has ever brought me comfort when my heart is heavy. Just to think there is such a place...I’ve dreamed of finding it. But I fear it is not my destiny to do so.”
Grim paused again, allowing Skylar time to contemplate his words.
“You say that Elydar is the closest planet to the Spirit King,” said Skylar. “Why then should you not wish to find his dwelling place instead? Should it not be greater than Elydar?”
Skylar thought he could almost hear Grim smile in the dark.
“That, my prince, is a difficult journey indeed. It is written that the only way to his planet is through death. Resurrecting the bodies of the dead, the Spirit King selects those he deems worthy to enter his dominion, there to enjoy eternal life. No, life in his world must be earned, not taken.”
More questions swirled in Skylar’s head. But as if to say, ‘that is enough for tonight,’ Gri
m broke the silence with that same soft, lilting melody about Elydar. And Skylar, exhausted from the day’s journey drifted off to sleep, thinking of Elydar and wishing to be back home.
TWELVE
THE NEXT TWO days it rained. Something Skylar had only heard tales about. He was glad of the oilskin his uncle hired the outfitter to make for him.
The gloomy weather only added to Skylar’s longing for home, to the bitterness he felt toward Lasseter. How could Lasseter have done this to him? Skylar’s one consolation during those days of endless walking and incessant rainfall was talking with Grim. The two had become fast friends since leaving Amrahdel. Something about this Grim Galloway made Skylar like him from the start. He had a noble bearing, and yet was as humble as any man Skylar had met. He told Skylar stories. Having travelled to nearly every corner of the empire, Grim recounted many stories of strange sights and heroic deeds, of adventures—they seemed to Skylar.
“If you call what we are on an adventure,” said Grim after Skylar had expressed amazement over all Grim had seen and done, “then I have had adventures aplenty.”
On the third day of their journey since abandoning the road and their paquas, they came to a break in the trees. Before them stretched several leagues of marshland, waist high with reeds. Beyond the marsh, rising from the earth like a living mountain stood another forest. Skylar was struck with awe as he gazed upon it.
“If there is any place on Quoryn that one can call forbidden,” said Krom, “the Gray Forest is it. Few dare to enter it. And of those, few ever return.”
“So why are we going there?” said Skylar.
“Because we have you,” replied Krom matter-of-factly.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow your reasoning.”
“Don’t worry,” broke in Endrick. “I won’t let them sacrifice you to the tree gods.”
“There will be no sacrificing,” retorted Krom, sternly. “The reason the Gray Forest is forbidden is because the Mauwik guard it so well that should anyone so much as break the branch off a tree, they will send an arrow through the culprit’s heart.”
Haladras Page 11
