by William King
Grogan walked over to where he stood and studied the pile of bodies dispassionately. “We’ve taken a head count. Fifty folk dead, thirty unaccounted for, mostly women and children.”
“Taken?”
“That would be my guess.” There were others nearby, listening to their conversation. Among them were Bertram and the woods-ranger Kormak had threatened the night before.
“We’re going to have to do something about that,” said Bertram.
The woodsman looked warily at Kormak but he nodded. “We can’t leave little ones in the hands of those cruel bastards.”
Grogan nodded but he said, “There must have been fifty elves here last night, that’s a warband at least. We got maybe twenty of them and we were lucky. They did not expect us to hit back so fast and so hard. We don’t have the men here to beat them even if I take everybody here that can carry a sharpened stick.”
“Then we send out runners with the war-arrow to Silas Springs, Karlston and the other villages, and to the rest of the settlers in the woods,” said Bertram. The sadness had fallen from his face now and he had taken on real authority. “This goes way beyond a few kidnappings. This is a challenge that can be met only with force.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Grogan. “They know what we will do. They must want us to do it.”
“You saying we should do nothing?”
“If we summon a Warmoot, it will draw folks away from the other villages. It will make all of them vulnerable and if we cross the river to punish the bastards we’re marching right into their territory and a Blight to boot.”
“So you are saying we should do nothing.”
Grogan spat on the ground and squinted off into the woods. He spoke slowly as if he was thinking through what he said as he said it. “Most likely by the time the Warmoot is called, the elves will be so far away we’ll never catch them.”
“We can burn their villages,” said the woodsman. He looked angry.
“You want to burn their villages or get our people back?” Grogan asked.
“Both would be good,” said Bertram, not without a certain sardonic humour.
“Then here’s what we do,” said Grogan. “I’ll take the Guardian and all the woods-runners we can round up and I’ll follow the bastards. We might get lucky and take them by surprise. If we can do that we might save some of our folks. We can at least follow their trail and find out where they go.”
He looked at Kormak to see if he agreed with this. Kormak nodded but said nothing. “Meanwhile you send out the war-arrow to the rest of the villages in the strip. Tell them what happened. Call a moot and tell them to get ready for war. May as well send runners to the Lords along the border— they probably won’t help but they may thank us for the warning later. Maybe Baron Enderby will come— he’s always keen enough to seek glory in battle.”
Bertram and the woodsman nodded. “Go tell the folks,” said Grogan. “I want a word with the Guardian. And send out some runners to check the steadings between here and the river. They might have been attacked on the way in.”
They went, leaving Kormak and Grogan looking at the pile of bodies.
“You up for this?” Grogan asked.
“I was going to take a look at the Blight anyway,” said Kormak.
“Good. Because I would be glad to have you along. I don’t like the feel of this at all.”
“Then why go?”
“You saw what they were like. We lost people, more in one night than we have in the past few years. Tensions have been growing with the elves for months and it was going to come to a head anyway. Unless I get them to do this sensibly, they’ll go rushing off into trouble.”
“You’re going to be doing that anyway, by the looks of things,” Kormak said.
“Yeah but at least we’ll be going in as prepared as we can be, and I’ll be taking men who have some chance of hunting elves. And if anything happens to us, the Settlements will be ready to fight. I want you to talk to the hunters about the Blight, tell them what they need to do, what to avoid, how not to get themselves killed. Will you do that?”
Kormak nodded.
“Why are you smiling?” Grogan asked.
“King Brand always said you were the best Ranger Captain he ever had. You still seem to have the habits of command.”
Grogan grinned sourly. “I’m the only Ranger Captain this mob are ever likely to have. Let’s hope I am up to the job.”
Kormak looked at the assembled woodsmen. There were about thirty of them and they were a tough looking bunch, all garbed in fringed leather and buckskins, carrying bows and long vicious hunter’s knives. They stared back at him, some resentfully, some with mocking grins, most with interest.
“I am going to tell you how to save your lives and your souls,” said Kormak. He spoke evenly but in a voice that would carry, the sort he had used before to address men before a battle. “You’re going into a Shadowblight. Some of you have probably been coming and going through it, and think you know what you’re about. I want you to forget that. What’s on this side of the river is a pale shadow of what will be on the other side.”
“Some of us have been across, Guardian. We’ve seen what it’s like.” There were nods.
“Then I want all of you who have been across before to come talk with me after this.”
“Why?”
“I’ll need to check you for the taint of Shadow.” There were groans and mocking shouts from the men who had been across but the rest of the woodsmen were looking at them seriously. Kormak had just made an accusation that could get a man burned in many places, and deservedly so.
“None of us are Shadowbrood,” someone shouted.
“Most likely,” said Kormak, “but it needs to be tested. Or do you have something to hide?”
It was a speech Kormak never liked to make but it had to be done. He could whip these people up into a lynch mob if he had to. They were already scared and suspicious enough.
“You said you were going to tell us how to survive in a Blight.” This came from Jaethro, the man who had almost started a fight in the bar last night. “You going to get on with that?”
“It’s simple,” said Kormak. “Drink nothing you find there. Eat nothing either. We take food and water with us, and we keep it sealed in bottles and skins until we need to use it. When we get out we wash ourselves and we burn everything we took in with us, unless I tell you different.”
“Why?”
“Because the Shadow will cling to most anything that passes through its land. It will be in the plants. It will be in the beasts that eat the plants. It will be in the beasts that eat those beasts. It will be in the water. And the Shadow changes anything that it touches.”
Some of the men grinned mockingly but some nodded agreement. “I can see some of you know what I am talking about. You’ve seen creatures warped and mad and behaving unnaturally. You’ve seen trees twisted out of shape. Unless you want to see the same thing happen to yourselves, you’ll heed what I say.”
“And what if we don’t?”
“If I find any of you are tainted, I will kill you.” He kept his voice absolutely neutral but he saw some of them flinch.
Kormak raised up his hand. “I want you to understand this— if I do kill you I will be doing you a favour. I will be saving you from the warping of body, mind and spirit. I will be saving you from becoming a twisted Shadowbrood changeling, a madman who would kill and betray his loved ones, whose soul will be consigned to eternal torments. I have seen these things happen. I don’t want it to happen to you.”
Something in his tone must have convinced them for they fell silent and when he stopped speaking a bunch of them shuffled forward, most with the worried looks on their faces of men who had been told that they might have the plague.
“How did it go?” Grogan asked. He checked the sky. The sun said it was noon and the day was wasting away. He wanted to be under way, but he was thorough and he was careful.
Kormak watched th
e last of the rangers go. He had spoken the words of the Sun’s prayer over them and touched them on the forehead with his Elder Sign amulet, which would burn anyone sufficiently saturated with the Shadow.
“No one is ready to turn purely from being possessed by the spirit of the Shadow,” Kormak said.
“Then why do you sound so unhappy.”
“A man can be a long way from that and still follow the Shadow in his mind. I would need to question these men for a long time before I am absolutely sure,” Kormak said.
“And we don’t have the time. You think it’s likely that some of them have been turned?”
“These are the ones who came forward. I’d say they wanted to know, which means they are the least likely.”
“You think any real traitor would not come forward. Is it possible that he might just to throw off suspicion?”
Kormak nodded.
“I don’t like the idea of heading out into the deep woods with some Shadowbrood in the company.”
“Not much we can do about it, is there? Unless you want us to do this on our own.”
“You’re good with that sword, best I ever saw and that’s a fact, and I am good with a bow, none better in the Settlements if I say so myself, but we’re not up to taking a warband of elves by ourselves.”
“I am not sure thirty men would be any better.”
“You’d be surprised what thirty men can do from ambush if they are the right men.”
Kormak had seen enough battles to know the damage a small force could do to a larger one if it attacked unexpectedly.
“You really think we’re going to be able to sneak up on elves in a forest?”
“We’re going to find out, aren’t we?” said Grogan.
“I guess we are,” said Kormak. “Let’s be about it.”
The hunters gathered together on the riverbank. They had assembled waterbags, wineskins and bags full of jerky and waybread. They had taken Kormak at his word and he was glad. Normally there was always someone who felt called on to show his independence but not this time. These men understood that their lives and more were at stake.
Kormak helped push the canoe out and then climbed in. He did not paddle. The woodsmen were used to it and knew better than he what to do, instead he kept his eyes peeled and kept the crossbow he had borrowed from Grogan at the ready.
Grogan was doing the same in his canoe although he held a bow in his hand. Three more canoes were strung out along the river. They found the place the scouts had marked for landing. Not even elves could move with so many captives without leaving a trail. Great trees overhung the river here, casting it into shadow. Large bushes came all the way down to the water’s edge. It was a good spot for an ambush and all too easy to imagine hostile alien eyes watching them.
They came ashore on the other side and dragged the canoes up out of the water, leaving them overturned beneath bushes, covered in leaves and branches against a casual search. The men moved quickly, easily and with the care of warriors who had done this sort of thing before. More scouts set out to make contact with the advance party, and returned when it was done, then the whole group started fanning out along the trail, weapons ready. Kormak stayed close to Grogan, moving with no less stealth than the men surrounding him, despite his heavier armour. The crossbow felt heavy and unfamiliar in his hands but he kept it ready to fire.
The woods on this side of the river were darker, denser and more twisted than those in the Settlements. The older and taller trees were least affected by the power of the Shadow but even they were more stooped than they ought to have been, with blotched leaves and strange faintly luminescent mushrooms growing amid their boles. The younger trees were twisted as if their limbs had been tortured on a rack, their bark was rougher, darker and seemed to have strange runes marked right into it. Around the smaller trees were more blighted bushes. Small things scuttled through the undergrowth and branches, shy and scared and nervous. There were no birds at all.
Kormak pulled his wraithstone amulet from beneath his tunic. Along with his Elder Signs it was one of his greatest protections against the power of the Shadow. Already a small thread of oily darkness writhed through the milk white heart of the stone. It was doing what it was supposed to do, absorbing the taint of Shadow, but, given how strong the Blight was here, he wondered how much longer it could continue to do so.
“Bad,” said Grogan. There was a note of question in his voice. He spoke softly in a tone that would not carry far. Kormak replaced the amulet beneath his tunic.
“It will get a lot worse as we move towards the Shadowheart,” said Kormak, matching his manner of speech. It reminded him of times they had fought together on night raids during the Orc War.
Grogan spat. “What sort of people would choose to live in this?”
“You’d be surprised,” said Kormak. “I’ve seen villages in the middle of blights. Many of the people looked normal but they were cannibals and worse…”
“You’ve led an interesting life since the war.” Grogan had dropped into the easy loping pace of the wood’s runner. Kormak kept pace beside him. “Me— my life had to get interesting just as I am feeling my age. Hunting Shadow-maddened elves in a blighted forest is not how I planned on spending my old age.”
“You’re not old,” Kormak said.
“For around here I am; woodrunners don’t always live to a great age.”
“Well, watch your step if you want to live to get much older.”
CHAPTER FOUR
GROGAN PAUSED FOR a moment, looked down, stooped and rose with something in his hand. They had been following the trail for hours now and the forest was getting more and more shadowy. “Woman’s brooch, dropped here. Looks like we’re on the right trail sure enough.”
“Think she left it deliberately?” Kormak glanced over his shoulder. Once again, he had the sense of being watched. He trusted his instincts enough to pay attention. Something about the way Grogan’s eyes flickered to the undergrowth told him that the ranger was feeling that way too.
“If she had her wits about her. They must be praying someone will come looking for them. I shudder to think what those elves will do with their prisoners.”
“Slaves?”
“Never heard of elves taking or selling slaves, not until the Weaver came along.”
Another thought crossed Kormak’s mind. “Sacrifices. There’s a lot of power in offering blood and souls when you’re working magic.”
“The thought had crossed my mind. Never heard of elves working Shadow magic either.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Something’s very wrong around here.”
“Yes,” said a soft voice from nearby. Kormak looked around and saw the elf girl standing there. Somehow she had slipped through the cordon of watchful hunters and come across them. She held her bow in her hand but the arrow was pointing towards the ground.
“I wondered when you were going to show yourself,” said Grogan. If he was daunted by the elf’s sudden appearance he gave no sign of it. He looked over at Kormak. “She’s been stalking us for the past couple of minutes.”
“Let’s hope none of her kin have been,” said Kormak.
She laughed quietly. “The Lost are no kin of mine. They are no kin to anyone anymore.”
“She’s Kayoga,” Grogan said. “The ones who attacked last night were Mayasha.”
“The Mayasha are gone. A Shadow has fallen between them and the sun. Their tree herds rot. Their Elder is dead. They follow their new-old god now and it leads them down a rotting path into darkness.”
“Why are you here, Speardancer?” Grogan asked.
“I am here to tell you to turn back. Your people are worse than dead. You will be too if you follow this path to its bitter end.”
“You saw the prisoners die?” Kormak said.
She shook her head. “I know what will happen to them and you cannot stop it. Best you flee this place. Best you raise your war-banners and summon the Armies of the Morning. The
Shadow rules here and it will take the strength of Nations to oppose it.”
Kormak heard steps coming closer turned and saw Jaethro; his jaw gaped, he opened his mouth to shout. When Kormak turned to look back for the elf, she was gone.
“What was that?” Jaethro asked.
“We were talking to the ghost,” said Grogan.
“She tell you anything interesting?”
“To turn back.”
“An elf would tell you that.”
“Jaethro!”
“Yes, Grogan.”
“If you see the ghost again, don’t kill her. Tell the others. She’s not our enemy.”
“You sure of that?”
“Sure as I am of you.”
Jaethro shrugged. “Will do. I can’t say what the others will do though.”
“Just spread the word,” Grogan said. “And what did you want?”
“Found some more bodies up ahead. They are not pretty. You’ll want to take a look at them though.”
Once Jaethro had moved ahead Grogan spoke.
“What did you think of the elf?” Grogan asked.
“She was convincing,” said Kormak.
“Yes,” said Grogan, “and if she was with the spiderfolk, she would just have put an arrow in us instead of telling us to run, so I am inclined to believe her.”
“You think we should retreat?”
“Do you?”
Kormak shook his head. “Not while there’s a chance that some of the captives are still alive.”
Grogan nodded grimly. “That’s what I thought you would say.”
The bodies belonged to a woman and a teenage boy. They had been staked out and Kormak had guessed the spiders had been set on them. There were lumps in the flesh.
“Why the hell did they do this?” Jaethro asked. “Why drag someone all this way and kill them here.”
