The snake lunged at Vambran, and he shifted his stance to one side and sliced with his sword at the creature's neck. The blow landed true, but the gouge he created was only a narrow furrow, the blade inhibited by the thick scales covering the reptile. Still, the snake did not like that one bit and hissed malevolently as it recoiled from him, swaying and watching its quarry with beady, frightening eyes that glowed in the dusk.
Vambran considered launching a spell that would blind the creature, one of his magical flares aimed right at the snake's eyes, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately, for he did not want to aid the men hunting the Crescents. Instead, he decided to conjure his magical swarm of coins. Reaching into his shirt as he backed away from the advancing snake, he produced his holy medallion and began to utter the words of a familiar prayer. Finishing the petition, he kissed the coin and felt the manifestation of magic form in front of him.
The clump of coins materialized in a low humming swarm, and with a thought, Vambran sent the buzzing cloud right at the snake's head. In the gathering darkness, it was growing more difficult to see clearly, but Vambran knew the cloud of coins struck true when the snake jerked and retreated, hissing and biting at nothing in particular. Maintaining his concentration on the holy weapon and driving it repeatedly at the snake's head, Vambran used the distraction to circle around to a better vantage point. The snake seemed to sense what the soldier was trying to do, though, because it turned several times to keep its foe in front of itself, but each time, Vambran was able to maneuver the swarm of stinging coins in for another round of vicious blows.
The snake lost interest in attacking the man and settled to the ground with the intention of fleeing. It slithered through the dried leaves, rushing away from the repeated stinging bites that it could not see nor retaliate against. Vambran maintained his magic for a few moments more, desiring to make certain that the snake truly fled, but once it was clear the beast was not going to return, he recalled the swarm and turned to see how his companions were faring.
Several snakes were down and lifeless, and the two remaining were badly bleeding. At least one of the mercenaries was also down, unmoving, and two others were writhing in agony, out of range of the battle. Vambran rushed to aid the soldiers, sending his cloud of coins toward the nearest snake.
As the holy weapon struck the serpent across one side of its head, the snake jerked and shifted its attention sideways, snapping at the air. The distraction gave Grolo the opportunity to leap close to the snake and swing his axe with both hands. The dwarf's aim was true, and he lopped the reptile's head completely off with that single blow, sending it bouncing away into the darkness. The snake's body began to buck and writhe haphazardly across the ground, leaking blood and other fluids as it did. Grolo jumped clear of the corpse as Vambran directed his magic at the last remaining snake.
That single opponent was clearly already in its death throes as Vambran's swarm of coins smacked it across the snout. The strike was enough to send it reeling to one side, toppling over into the leaves. Horial and Adyan closed in and finished off the creature.
Vambran turned to the three downed mercenaries. They all had suffered burns from the acid spit by the snakes, he realized. Filana and Burtis were alive but in terrible pain, but Elebrio did not move.
"Help them!" the lieutenant ordered his three sergeants as he bent down to check the youngest Crescent for signs of life. The acid had done its work too well, though, for most of Elebrio's face was nothing but raw, red flesh, his features scoured by the burning acid. As Vambran suspected, the youthful soldier did not breathe.
No pain for you, at least, Vambran thought sorrowfully.
The mercenary officer knew he could not waste a moment grieving for the young man, though, and went over to see what aid he could give the other two wounded soldiers. Both Filana and Burtis were sitting up by then, while the sergeants applied a healing salve to the worst of their burns.
"Elebrio's dead," Vambran said. "Acid got him squarely in the face, it appears."
"Aye," Grolo grumbled as he handed a waterskin over to Filana. "The boy jumped right into the middle of the fight, though," the dwarf said. "Never backed down from the snake for a moment. He would have made a fine soldier."
"We have to get moving," Vambran said, changing the subject. "There are trackers on our trail, hunting us down even as we speak. It won't take them long to find us, with the kind of noise we just made.
"Adyan, strip Elebrio's body of anything useful and bury him in leaves. We can't dig a grave, but we can at least make it a little harder for the bloodhounds to figure out what happened."
"Aye, sir," Adyan replied and moved to do Vambran's bidding.
"Grolo, Horial, help the two of them," Vambran said, indicating the wounded pair. "You get moving northeast, back toward the coast. I'm going to try to mislead our pursuers a little bit by laying a false trail to the south." The other two nodded, and everyone sprang into action at once. Vambran moved to a position in the midst of the snake carcasses and set off through the trees southward, deeper into the forest, doing his best to stir up leaves, snap fallen branches, and scuff his feet into the dirt. After he had progressed in such a fashion for a couple of hundred paces, he stopped near the base of a tree.
It was almost too dark to see anything, so he drew forth his pendant and uttered a soft prayer of light. The resulting glow that sprang from the coin was gentle, like moonlight, and Vambran cupped the symbol in his hand to keep it from shining out in all directions.
Using the magical light to aid him, Vambran knelt down at the base of the tree and began hunting for another spider. He spotted one quickly enough, and he went through the motions of casting the spell again that he had used to climb with before. When he knew the magic had manifested, Vambran willed the soft light to wink out, waited a moment for his eyes to adjust, and scurried up the tree.
Near the top, Vambran began to move out along the limbs of the shadowtop, navigating the narrow branch with ease, thanks to his magical ability. As he neared the end of the branch and felt it begin to sag dangerously low, he transferred his weight to another branch, which happened to protrude from a neighboring tree. Then he scurried across the expanse of that tree's cover and moved on to the next tree.
Vambran continued to maneuver through the forest that way, crossing from tree to tree by means of the climbing spell, never leaving a trail upon the ground. After he had progressed quite a distance and was certain the magic would fade soon, he hurried down. Sure enough, when he was perhaps ten feet from the ground, he felt the spell dissipate, and he half jumped and half fell the rest of the way to the forest floor.
Better not wait so long next time, he thought, dusting himself off. Then he set off in the general direction he had sent his companions, expecting to catch up to them after a little while. Part of his plan also took into account the possibility of his little trick failing to mislead the trackers.
If they don't fall for it, I want them to catch up to me, first, he thought. I can give the others a fair chance to escape by myself.
But his fears did not come to that, and after perhaps an hour of walking, Vambran began to detect motion through the trees ahead. Picking up his pace, the lieutenant issued his telltale bird call. Soon enough, the whistled reply echoed back. Vambran caught up to the rest of the group a short time later.
"Well, we'll see how much we managed to delay them," he said as the six of them settled down to rest for a few moments. "I doubt it will hold them up for long, but every few minutes of time we bought is worth it."
"We tried to tread lightly, sir," Horial said as he began to pass around some hunks of hard bread and some slices of thick, dried meat. "Don't know how good of a job we did, though. We're soldiers, not thieves."
"Don't worry about it," Vambran replied, noticing the ache in his legs for the first time all night. "If we can stay ahead of them, that's good enough." He bit into a slice of meat and tore the mouthful free. His stomach rumbled with appreciation, an
d Vambran realized he hadn't eaten since before noon that day, when they had all still been aboard Lady's Favor. That seemed like such a very long time ago.
Kovrim, where are you? the lieutenant wondered. What happened to everyone?
In the darkness, he could more than see the rest of the group busily consuming the small repast that Horial had doled out. No one said anything, but Vambran could sense the courage and determination from each of them. He could judge it by the carriage of each soldier's silhouette, hear it in the way they ate their food. They were professionals, and he was proud of the way they were handling the bizarre and unnerving circumstances of the day.
"Any idea where we're headed?" Burtis asked between bites.
Vambran shook his head then realized the other soldiers most likely could not see his gesture. "None at all," he admitted, "though I know that Reth lies ahead of us. We keep walking the way we're going right now, we'll wind up hitting either the coast or the road that runs south out of Reth and circles around the Nunwood back toward Hlath. One way or the other, we'll wind up in the city."
"Assuming we can get there before our pursuit catches up," Filana said, her mouth full of bread.
"Well, if you're so worried about that," Vambran replied, rising, "then break time is over. Let's get marching, soldier."
Filana groaned but did not question her superior. As a team, the six gathered up everything they had and set out again.
As they walked, Vambran took the time to listen to the surroundings. Other than the snakes, they had not been visited by any predators, which surprised him.
Don't go looking for more trouble, soldier, he told himself. Be glad the denizens have left you alone.
Vambran recalled then some of the stories of the Nunwood, of how most of the more dangerous creatures had been run off or slain. The forest had been heavily logged for many centuries before the druids of the Emerald Enclave had stepped in and begun making trouble for the folk who lived along its edge. Lumber processing had slowed down considerably once the druids began pushing everyone around, but it had not died off completely. Regardless, both the logging operations-or rather the mercenaries hired by the loggers-and the druids had managed to make the Nunwood a much safer place than other forests in the region.
Of course, that was a relative thing, Vambran realized. Even a safe forest still remained shrouded in mystery and harbored danger. Though the snakes had been unfortunate, he still considered the group lucky to that point not to have encountered more dangerous creatures during their trek.
Vambran's musings were interrupted by the appearance of a glow from ahead. The others saw the emanations about the same time he did, and the whole group drew to a halt. Though they were still too far removed to be certain, to Vambran's eyes, the glow seemed to be the remnants of some dying fires, barely visible through the trees ahead of them. Almost as one, the five other mercenaries crouched down and huddled together, waiting to see what their leader ordered.
Vambran leaned in and whispered, "stay here while I move ahead to see what's what. Don't make any sounds because whoever this is might have sentries posted in this direction."
Though he could not see the other mercenaries' responses, he could sense that they understood. Quietly as he could, Vambran rose to his feet and began to creep forward, noting a few conspicuous trees that he could use to navigate back in that direction once he was finished scouting. As he drew closer to the glow, he became more and more certain that it was from multiple campfires, and they were all positioned in a clearing ahead. The lieutenant stopped at one point and peered around, searching for telltale signs that guards stood watch there in the edge of the woods, but he did not see anything, so he began to move forward again.
When Vambran reached the underbrush that marked the edge of the clearing, he saw that it was a military camp. Tents were clustered in orderly groups around the fires, and there were indeed sentries positioned around the perimeter of the encampment, but none of them was stationed very close to the edge of the woods. The lieutenant did notice, however, that several of the guards were standing watch over an old barn near where Vambran crouched. He could see that a fresh door had been built into the side of the barn, and a log was used to bar it shut. The mercenary officer had a pretty good idea that prisoners were inside. He wondered if they were Sapphire Crescents.
Knowing he was risking capture, but burning with the need to know, Vambran circled around until he could approach the barn from the back side and, he hoped, unnoticed. He crept very carefully out of the trees and right up to the wall, which was made only of rough logs, so there were plenty of gaps. He peered inside, but the glow of the firelight was not enough to see by.
Taking a deep breath, Vambran gave a very soft whistle, the birdcall signal he was so fond of using. A form stirred very near where he crouched and mumbled something soft. Vambran whistled again, still keeping the sound very light and soft.
"What the-?" the figure grunted, sitting upright. "Who's there?" the man mumbled, trying to whisper.
"Lieutenant Vambran. What's your name?"
"By Waukeen, Lieutenant, it's sure good to hear your voice!" It was Hort "Old Bloagy" Bloagermun, and he was speaking too loudly.
"Shh!" Vambran warned in a whisper, glancing around to see if the sentries had heard anything. "Keep your voice down!"
"Sorry, sir," Hort whispered back, obviously fully awake by then. "What's going on?"
"A few Crescents and I are in the woods, just beyond the camp here. How'd you wind up in there?"
Hort told Vambran the tale of his capture, along with the others. He did a quick listing of the men included, and when he named off Kovrim, Vambran felt his shoulders sag in profound relief.
"That's great news, soldier," he whispered. "We're going to figure out a way to get you out of there, but sit tight. Don't even wake the rest of the men up, yet. Do you understand?"
"Aye, sir," Hort replied.
"I'll be back soon," Vambran said then turned and crept away. Elation made the man want to move quickly, but he dared not let it get the best of him, so he very carefully backtracked to the point where he had left his companions.
"I found more Crescents," he began, but before he could finish, he realized that the other five were not alone. Numerous figures rose up from behind trees or bushes, surrounding Vambran and his companions. Instinctively, Vambran reached for his sword.
"Don't," came a soft voice from behind him, and a curved blade was laid across his neck at an angle. "You won't make it."
Vambran froze. At first, he thought the trackers had caught up to them, but as he turned slowly to get a better look, he realized that all of the newcomers were covered in plants and branches. The blade at his throat was a scimitar.
Druids!
Before Vambran could reveal his observation, however, a large shout rose up from the camp.
"It's begun," the figure still holding the scimitar against the lieutenant said. "We must hurry."
"What's begun?" Vambran demanded.
"Your doom," the druid replied.
Something slammed hard against the back of Vambran's head, and the world turned upside down before fading away.
CHAPTER 11
Kovrim was startled awake by sudden noise, but for a moment, he could not remember where he was. Then the foggy remnants of sleep began to clear, and the mercenary recalled how he'd come to be locked inside a very old barn with several other soldiers. As he sat up and peered around, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the priest could hear shouting and the beginnings of some sort of scuffle just beyond the walls of the barn, and he realized that the fighting was what had awakened him.
"What's going on?" Kovrim asked of no one in particular, standing and stretching as he observed many of the rest of the dozen Crescents standing or kneeling, peering through gaps in the log wall.
"Lieutenant Matrell is out there," Hort Bloagermun said, turning toward Kovrim. "He said he and some other Crescents were in the forest, and they were going to
try to free us!"
"What?" Kovrim said, not sure he had heard correctly. "Vambran's here?"
"Aye, sir," Old Bloagy replied, still pressing one eye to the wall. "He crept up to the wall here and spoke with me just a few moments ago."
Kovrim realized his knees were shaking in relief. Vambran was alive! He was mounting a rescue attempt!
But then, Kovrim began to frown, for he could see no way for such a plan to succeed. The old mercenary knew how many soldiers had been with the company aboard the ship, and how many Vambran was likely to have remaining under his command. It was a pitiful number to take up against the entire army gathered in the clearing where he and the other Crescents were being held. It was foolish to try a head-on assault, and Vambran would know that, too. Kovrim's nephew was no fool.
"No, something else is happening," Kovrim announced, moving to the wall to get a look. "Vambran may be out there, but this is not his work. He wouldn't try to attack the entire silver raven contingent this way. They must have been spotted out in the woods."
"Those aren't Crescents out there," another soldier reported from the opposite wall. "Someone else is attacking the camp."
Kovrim switched positions to get a better look. In the dim light of the embers of the many fires, he could see very little, but the motion all around the clearing was continuous, and he could occasionally make out a figure leaping up from the shadows, pouncing on a soldier of the silver raven group. The sound of the fighting grew louder as more of the attacking force poured into the camp.
Nearby, the guards standing watch at the door to the barn cried out, and Kovrim raced over to see what had become of them. Three silhouettes were arrayed against the pair of mercenaries, all of them dressed in crude, natural clothing and swinging curved blades. One of the figures was an elf.
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