by Garry Spoor
“From the south,” Nasom yelled from behind.
For one brief moment, Kile thought they were saved. The outpost, or even the King's army, was riding to reinforce them. But she was mistaken. She didn’t have to look. She could feel it on the very edges of her senses. It was what she feared. The wolves from the south would drive them into the wolves from the north. If they got caught between the two forces, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
She urged the herd on faster. They couldn’t be very far from the outpost now. If her letter reached Captain Jax, they may even be waiting for them.
The trees were now passing in a green blur and the deer were pushing themselves to the very limit of their endurance to win the outpost, but they weren’t fast enough.
“Rider down!”
The call carried up the line and it sent a chill down her spine.
“Keep going,” she commanded, stopping Fenola and turning her around. She started running against the herd, closing in on the fallen soldier and his mount.
She didn’t recognize the rider at first. He was on the ground trying to get to his feet, but she recognized the black hoofed deer who stood over him. It was Gadella, the youngest of the herd to volunteer. She was injured, but she was still able to keep the wolves at bay.
Drawing her blade, Kile fell into her Edge. She knew she couldn’t control the wolf, to try, would be disastrous, but she could distract it. It would be like poking a badger with a stick, a quick hit and run into the reptilian wolf’s psyche. She focused on one name, one vision, Risa Ta’re. She wasn’t sure why the long past Hunter suddenly came to her at that moment, she hadn’t thought of Ta’re for ages, but it must have worked. The wolf stumbled, but quickly recovered. It turned its attention from the young soldier to Kile. This was not one of her better ideas.
As Fenola closed the distance between them, she made a sharp turn and Kile lashed out with the blade just as the wolf lunged. She cut a line across the beast’s nose. The fallen soldier seized his opportunity to grab hold of Gadella and pull himself up.
“Get going,” she shouted when she saw him hesitate.
It was Private Danhild Tinny, a quiet young man who she didn’t get the chance to know, and probably never would, if he didn’t get moving.
Fenola made a sharp turn around the wolf again, and was catching up to Tinny when another emerged from the tall grass, moving fast. With two wolves now closing in on them, fighting was no longer an option. They had to rely on speed, but the rain, which was now starting to fall, wasn’t helping. Tinny was light, and Gadella was young. The two quickly pulled ahead. She could see the terror on Tinny’s face, when he looked back at her. He didn’t want to leave her behind, but he was no soldier, and he urged Gadella to move faster.
The rain was starting to come down harder now, and visibility was limited. She could hear the wolves closing in on her. She could almost feel their breath on the back of her neck, when she spotted two riders coming out of the rain toward her. One was Tullner, his blade already drawn, the other was Sandson.
The stupidity of heroics.
“Go back,” She shouted, focusing her command on the deer, since she knew the men wouldn’t listen. She wasn’t sure if either one of them heard her, since she found herself without a mount.
One moment Fenola was under her, the next she was flying through the air with the ground quickly coming up to meet her. She hit the road hard, rolling along the surface and came to a rest inside a shrub. Staggering to her feet, she drew her blades as one of the wolves came at her. She tried sidestepping it, but it caught her right shoulder with one brutal claw and, for a moment, she thought it ripped her arm off. It spun her around, but she was still able to score a hit of her own, a decent cut along the beast’s flank. The wolf dropped back, keeping its distance and circled her.
She was distracted by Fenola’s cry. Turning, she witnessed the deer go down under the second creature. There was nothing she could do to save her. Kile screamed and lunged at the wolf. It spun around, lashing out with its long, thick tail, knocking her legs out from under her. She hit the ground hard, landing on her right arm, which only intensified the pain of her injury. It was moving in for the kill when Vesper leapt on its muzzle and bit down on its nose. The wolf’s short, muscular legs were of no use in trying to remove the yarrow, and it resorted to rolling around on the ground to dislodge it. Staggering to her feet and gripping the weapon in her left hand, Kile buried the blade into the distracted wolf’s side. It let out a horrifying cry, which went right through her, knocking her to her knees. It filled her head to the point of breaking, driving all other noise away, until the only sound left was her screams. Only when the wolf took its last breath did the world go silent.
The first sound she heard was a voice, deep in the back of her mind, but it was too quiet for her to make out what it was saying, and it faded all too quickly. That was soon replaced by the sounds outside her head. It was as if someone had just opened the window of her quiet room. There was the wind, a distant sound of thunder, a rider coming in fast, and a deep long growling.
-Kile… dog.-
Vesper shouted, and his words brought the image of the reptilian wolf, which was now slowly stalking her.
She had barely enough energy to lift her head, let alone her weapon. Where was that feral side of her when she really needed it?
The wolf slowly approached, its head low to the ground, its teeth bared in what appeared to be a sinister smile. What was so amusing, she wondered? It wasn’t as if she could do anything to stop it. As it got closer, it suddenly disappeared. It didn’t so much as vanish as it got its head slammed into the road by on large platter sized hoof.
***~~~***
11
“Sir… Sir, she’s awake.”
“Send for the Captain.”
Kile didn’t recognize the voices, not all of them anyway.
-Kile alive?-
It was an incredible effort just to open her eyes. When she did, she was staring into the face of a little white yarrow.
-Kile alive?-
Vesper asked again. There was an uncomfortable uncertainty in his voice and she wondered just how bad she looked.
“Yes Vesper… barely,” she replied.
She tried to lift her right arm, but it wouldn’t move. The rest of her limbs felt as if they weighed a ton. As the room fell into focus, she had no idea where she was, nothing looked familiar. She was surrounded by walls of stone with rough cut timber beams overhead. If there were windows, they had to be closed. If they weren’t, then it was the dead of night, since the only light in the room was a single flickering candle beside her bed.
“Oh please not again,” she whispered. Why did she always black out and end up in a hospital bed? Why couldn’t she, just once, finish a battle, standing on her own two feet?
“Oh no you don’t, young lady.”
She heard someone say when she tried to sit up.
“Don’t move around too much.”
She decided to obey the disembodied voice, not become she wanted to, but because her attempt at sitting up was less than successful.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“You’re where you’re supposed to be,” came the reply.
That’s hardly an answer.
There was the soft sound of footsteps on a wooden floor as the voice got closer.
“Let’s see to that arm, shall we?”
Gentle hands touched her forearm and slowly worked their way up to her shoulder. She turned to see an old man in a black hat, lit by the light of the candle, leaning over her bed.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“The name is Sumsor, if you must know,” he answered.
The name didn’t ring any bells, but she had seen his face before.
“You’re the healer in Moran,” she said.
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he replied. “Now, how does your arm feel?”
“I can’t seem to move it.”
“Well, I’m not
surprised. It’s strapped to the bed,” he said as he started to untie the bonds which restrained her arm. “The question wasn’t whether you could move it or not, the question was how does it feel?”
“Fine… I guess,” she replied, flexing her fingers. At least she still had fingers to flex.
A noise, to her left, caught her attention as a door opened, spilling in light from the corridor. When it closed, the room was all that much darker. Heavy iron shod footsteps crossed the floor toward her.
“How is she doing, Sumsor?” a familiar voice asked.
“She’ll be fine. The damage to the shoulder could have been worse. She should have full use of it in a couple of days,” the healer replied.
“Good, I need to speak with her.”
“She should rest, Bart.”
“I understand that, but we don’t have much time, so please.”
“As if you ever followed my advice,” the old healer said, grabbing his bag, which rested beside the table. “I have others who need my attention.”
He crossed the floor, heading for the door. The light was allowed back into the room, but only temporarily. The closing of the door forced it out again.
A tall, lean man with dark hair, which was starting to show signs of age, walked around the end of the bed and pulled up a chair. He sat down, looked at Kile and grinned.
“So, the wili has returned after all,” Captain Bartholomew Jax laughed “Do you delight in giving my soldiers a hard time?”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir,” Kile said, pulling herself up to a sitting position. There was a dull aching in her right shoulder, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She had suffered worse injuries, back at the Academy.
“Do you know how long it took to convince my men you weren’t a wili? I still don’t think they believe me. It was several days before any man would stand watch over the western gate at night. If it wasn’t for the new recruits, who were sent up from Stripton a month after your little visit, I probably wouldn’t have any guards on that gate. And now, when I finally get things settled down, you do this to me.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she protested.
“You didn’t do anything,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Let me see now. First off, three days ago, I was visited by a very determined red-shouldered hawk. It’s not that we don’t see them around here, mind you. We just don’t tend to see them flying through our halls, and they don’t usually drop cryptic messages in my lap, but that was just the start. On the next day, we are visited by five men of the King’s Command. Three of which were wounded, but that, on its own, was the least of it. What was disturbing was seeing the wili’s black horse return. You can only image the commotion that stirred up. We took your wounded to the halls and we found accommodations for your men and their horses, as for your demon mount, he stood, staring at the western gates, refusing to budge. When my men attempted to move him, he kicked one across the yard.”
“I’m so sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “Grim doesn’t really like being touched. How… how is your man?”
“A few bruised ribs, but a lesson well learned. I’m sure that horse of yours could have done much worse, if he truly intended to. Needless to say, we let him guard the western gate. It wasn’t as if I was going to get any of my men to do it.”
“I’m sorry to be dropping this on you, sir.”
“Oh, don’t apologize, at least not yet, because we haven’t even gotten to the best part. That would be when eight more men of the King’s Command show up, not riding horses, mind you, but riding black hoofed mountain deer. Unfortunately, that didn’t go unnoticed. No sooner do we open the gate to let them through, then that horse of yours, who stood motionless for the last day and a half, charges out into the rain, along with two of your men. Twenty minutes later, they return, with you, barely alive. If it wasn’t for your men, I don’t think your horse would have let us near you. As it was, that white rat of yours wasn’t as accommodating,” Captain Jax said, holding up a bandaged finger.
“Again, I am sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be. It was my mistake in trying to separate him from you. I should have known better.”
“What of the men and the deer? How are they?”
“Your men are fine. The wounded are in the halls recovering and, as I’ve said, we found accommodations for the others. The deer were brought to the western stables, and I can assure you, the stable master will take care of them. As for your horse, he is standing at the base of the stair just outside your window. We thought it best to let him stand wherever he wanted to.”
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Not until you know everything,” He said, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me, why did you come here?”
“It was the first safe place I could think of,” she replied.
He looked at her carefully, and she felt as if he was studying her, the way a man looks at an artifact that he does not yet know the purpose of.
“What were you doing in Denal?” he asked.
At first, she wasn’t sure how much she could tell him. Were they on a secret mission? As far as she knew, and that wasn’t very far, there were no secrets attached to it. It wasn’t as if she knew that much anyway.
“All I know is, it was supposed to be a simple scouting mission,” she finally told him.
“Scouting? What were you supposed to be scouting?”
“The Denal province. Personally, I don’t know anything about it. I was only assigned to the squad because they needed someone familiar with the area and I was the only one unlucky enough to be available.”
He studied her again, and then nodded slowly as if putting pieces together in his mind.
“When did you set out on this mission?” he asked.
“I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. I think it was on the third of the month.”
“Well, if that were true,” he said, getting up from his chair. “Then you don’t know.”
“Know? Know what?” she asked.
Walking across the floor, he pulled open the shutters. The cool night air filled the room and she could hear the gentle sound of rain falling upon the roof, just outside the window. He turned toward her and leaned against the sill. And although she couldn’t see his face, she could tell he was no longer smiling. What he had to say pained him greatly.
“The Callor province has declared war on the King. You are still behind enemy lines.”
“What? That’s… that’s impossible.”
“I’m afraid not. It was declared three days after you left on your mission. I assume, had they known, they never would have sent you out. At first, I thought you might have come to spy on us, but now, I don’t believe that is the case.”
“But what happened? Why would the Callor province declare war?”
“I have been wondering that myself. Lord Rimes is not an impulsive man. This had to be coming for some time.”
Six years, Kile thought. That’s how long he had been planning this. It all made sense now, in some strange psychotic way.
“You know something, don’t you?” Captain Jax said as he quickly returned to his chair.
“Lord Rimes is related to the King.”
“Well, yeah, that’s hardly a secret. Everyone knows that. Lord Byron Rimes’ mother was Lady Andilen Waltair.”
“And she’s related to the King?” Kile asked
Jax looked at her curiously. “Waltair,” he said. “As in Jusen Waltair… High King Jusen Waltair, father of Roland Waltair.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not really up on my royal lines,” she confessed.
“Fine,” Jax said, leaning forward. “I will give you a quick rundown of the royal family. High King Jonland Waltair II had two children, a boy and a girl, Andilen Waltair, who married Fardane Rimes, and Jusen Waltair who married Isabel Kinns, I believe Lady Kinns was from the Sutton Province. Jusen Waltair succeeded Jonland to become King of Aru, and later went on to hav
e two sons of his own. Jonland Waltair III, and Roland Waltair II. Jonland was to succeed his father to become King, but was assassinated, and so Roland Waltair II became the new High King after the death of Jusen. Lady Andilen Waltair and Lord Fardane Rimes had only one son, and that was Lord Byron Rimes.”
“Oh, I see,” Kile replied “So Lord Byron Rimes is the cousin to the High King.”
“Exactly,” Jax replied.
“And that’s why Eric ran off to join Ravenshadow, because Ravenshadow is Eric’s second cousin.”
“What?”
“Now it all makes sense.”
“Then maybe you can explain it to me,” Jax said.
“They must have been planning this for at least six years, possibly even longer. Eric Rimes get into the Hunter’s Academy, not to become a Hunter, but to get something from the great hall for his second cousin, Jonland Waltair.”
“But Jonland was assassinated,” Jax corrected her.
“That’s just it. He wasn’t. A group of men, who came to call themselves the dark conspiracy, faked it. They didn’t want to see Jonland succeed the King. So they had him imprisoned for his own assassination. This allowed Roland to become King. Jonland was sent to Blackmore, but somehow, he managed to escape, and fled to the wastelands, where he has been amassing his army to take back the throne. Eric is supposed to retrieve some artifact from the Great Hall at the Academy, but he failed, which delayed Jonland’s plans. That means, he must have either found a way around the obstacle without the artifact, or he’s changed his plans.”
“So you’re saying, Lord Rimes, choosing to declare war on the High King, is part of this master plan.”
“Of course it is. Jonland amasses his army of valrik in the Denal province, which is already weakened by Lord Rimes. When the army is ready, Lord Rimes declares war on the High King, thus opening his borders to the Uhyre army…”
“…which give the enemy a direct access to the Azintar Province, and a path to the throne, unchecked,” Jax finished for her.
Was it really that simple? Once it was all out in the open, it wasn’t a very complicated plan.
