In Wilder Lands

by Jim Galford

  “Already lost one person today and I don’t intend to lose another. You’re coming with me.”

  Feanne raised her head slowly, revealing deep gashes all across her face he could not see before. Her good eye fixed him with a stare that made him feel cold as she studied him.

  “Do you have a way to open this cage?”

  Estin looked around, trying to find a key. His eyes fell on it…on the dwarf’s hip, as he struggled to get the dogs off him.

  “No,” he admitted. There had to be some other way…

  Feanne gestured towards a small fire in one corner of the kennel.

  “Get me a coal, quickly,” she ordered him, her eyes already on the dogs. “I can get myself out, but I need to be able to write.”

  Estin rushed to the fire, kicking at the ashes until he found a darkened piece of wood that was no longer aflame. Grabbing it despite the uncomfortable heat it still radiated, he darted back to the cage and shoved it through the bars.

  Snatching the piece of wood from Estin’s hand and putting it to the ground, Feanne began tracing symbols in the dirt.

  “You may wish to run,” she said calmly, though her hands were still trembling, forcing her to slow her writing almost immediately.

  Estin looked back over his shoulder and found that several dogs were now eyeing him viciously. With the dwarf no longer struggling, they were looking for new prey.

  “Even if I could, I’m staying until you get out.”

  Faenne glanced up at him, her voice cracking slightly, as though from pain, “If you’re going to stay, then hold them off and I can help you shortly.”

  “Great…”

  Estin pointed his sword at the dogs, who appeared unimpressed.

  “Whatever you’re doing, please do it quickly,” he told Feanne, taking a step out into the courtyard with the dogs following slowly. Another two had joined in stalking him and they began to spread out in preparation for attacking. “I can probably stop one or two, but they’re definitely going to eat me.”

  “The difference between breaking myself out of this cage,” Feanne answered, still carefully tracing her odd symbols, now on the large lock of the cage, “and burning myself with acid is a small one. I prefer to get it right on the first try. Keep them busy for a little while without drawing attention to yourself.”

  “That’s not really…”

  Estin’s words died in his mouth as a dog tackled him from the side, teeth snapping for his throat. He rolled with the impact, kicking it away, but then another was on him, its fangs digging deep into his leg, drawing blood.

  Screaming, Estin tried to get away from the savage bites while swinging his sword where the dog had been, but it just darted out of reach as another raked his shoulder. When he turned to fight off that one, another bit his tail, eliciting a another cry of agony. He was being torn apart one bite at a time and realized that he was likely going to bleed to death in front of the very person he was trying to save.

  Another dog leapt onto Estin and he dropped his sword and grabbed at its head, keeping it just barely from digging its teeth into his neck. Others were biting at his legs as he moved, trying to keep them from getting a solid mouthful of his flesh.

  From the cage, a loud bang startled both the dogs and Estin, buying him a second he wasted looking around for the source.

  The cage door now lay at a strange angle, its lock smoking and twisted. Feanne was slowly getting to her feet, stretching out her legs and neck as the dogs began baying at her again.

  “I am done with this game,” she told the dogs, making an idle gesture with one hand. Suddenly all of the dogs stopped attacking Estin or growling at her and instead walked over in front of her and sat down as though waiting for direction from a beloved master. “Stay.”

  Estin tried to get up, but his legs were in bad shape, with puncture wounds radiating pain up past his hips. His arms were barely usable with deep claw marks lengthwise down his left arm and several gaping bites that were pouring blood over his fur and onto the ground. He collapsed each time he tried to rise.

  “You got me out of the cage, so the least I can do is get you out of here,” Feanne said softly, leaning close to him. Her voice was still shaky, but she sounded stronger, or at least more confident. “Those beasts will wait for my command for a time, but I do not wish to be here when they come to their senses. Much as I would like to skin every one of the little manmade monsters, we need to be gone.”

  Strong hands grabbed Estin’s shoulders as Feanne leaned over him, muttering in a language not totally unlike the one Varra had used for her magic. This time, though, he felt the pain in his wounds ease gradually, until he thought he might be able to stand.

  Estin looked back to Feanne and saw that she was even more badly injured than he had thought. Bites on her legs and arms looked nearly crippling, making him wonder how she was still standing. A series of long gashes down her left arm in particular were bleeding profusely. As though weakened by the very thought, she dropped to her knees.

  Forcing himself to a seated position, Estin checked the courtyard and saw that soldiers were forming up at the far end of the yard. He turned back to Feanne, intending to warn her, when he realized that the wounds on her arms and legs matched his own. Though his were not feeling nearly as severe as before, hers looked much worse.

  “What did you just do?” he demanded, pushing himself up to his feet. He felt dizzy and unsteady, but he thought he could run if he tried hard enough.

  “I took your injuries on myself,” the fox female answered, smiling somewhat. “They did not look so bad before. Perhaps I am a worse healer than I had thought. Give me just a moment and I will be able to stand.”

  Feanne wavered and almost fell over even from her kneeling position, but Estin caught her, feeling blood begin to run over his hands from her injuries. The sight of so much blood made him want to yelp and run away, but he found that he could not leave Feanne, no matter how terrified he was. As an afterthought, he tucked his sword into his belt.

  “We’re getting out of here,” he told her firmly, dragging her to her feet. She stumbled, but just barely managed to stay upright. “I won’t leave you here to get eaten by dogs.”

  Estin suddenly felt foolish, glancing over at all the dogs who sat calmly watching Feanne for instructions. They wagged their tails happily, having forgotten the hatred they had possessed moments before.

  “I appreciate the loyalty. Lead the way and I will find a way to make my body follow,” answered Feanne at last, touching her hand to her head and trying to steady herself. Her balance appeared questionable at best, as she was clearly pushing herself to look healthier than she was.

  “We can get out into the city by running that direction,” he indicated an eastern path around the back of the kennels. “Once we get into the streets, I can find shelter for us until they get tired of chasing us.”

  “Less talk, more running. My strength will not last forever.”

  Estin took off at a jog, going around the building’s side that would block the other soldiers from seeing where he was going. He checked repeatedly as he went to be sure that Feanne was following, which she was, even if it was slowly, her feet coming down in an uneven line as she staggered after him. Had she been any other species, he would have thought her drunk, but the blood trail she was attempting to cover as she walked told volumes about why she was so disoriented.

  They moved as quickly as they could manage, working their way past the side of the keep towards the main city streets beyond. Just as they reached the first section of city cobblestones, one of the duke’s soldiers stepped in front of them, a crossbow readied and aimed at Estin’s face.

  “On your knees, beast.”

  Estin stumbled to a stop, raising his hands slowly. Wishing he had his sword already drawn, he put both hands on his head and waited for the chains to be placed on him. There would be no escape and Estin doubted he could have overpowered the human, even if he had been prepared.

 
“This will not do,” Feanne declared, moving past Estin with a stubbornness that could only impress him. “Lower your weapon and leave us.”

  “Shut up, bitch,” ordered the soldier. “On your knees!”

  Estin lifted his head slightly and glanced at Feanne, who despite her injuries once again looked regal in her stance. She brought her hands up swiftly and before the man could loose his crossbow on them, a stunning flash struck him from the sky with a boom that made Estin’s ears ring. Even as the soldier’s scream died into the smell of burning flesh, the flash also washed Estin’s vision, leaving only a burning white light.

  He gasped, collapsing, holding his eyes. Midday sunlight had been bad enough, but this made his head ring with pain. “What in the human hells was that?”

  “Just lightning, so please do not call upon forces who have no place here,” the fox told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. “We must not stop now. My strength will not last long and I doubt you wish to fight your way out of town without your vision. I will lead you.”

  Her hand tightened on his, dragging him along as she took off at a near-run. Estin struggled to keep up, blinking as occasional spots darted across his vision. When Feanne turned a corner, her sharp claws dug into his hand, but he held tight to her, trying not to get lost as they ran.

  After Estin was yanked around another turn, he slammed into Feanne as she came to an abrupt halt. The scents of the forest and her own distinct smell filled his nose as he pulled away from her, wondering what was going on. She said nothing, but something in the air told him that they were not in a good place. He tried to focus his eyes, but was still only seeing vague shapes.

  “Soldiers?” he asked softly.

  “Eight, who appear to be under orders to take us alive,” Feanne replied, pushing him up against a stone wall. “Lie down and stay very still. I have a friend that will help us out of this. Do not move. If you move, I cannot save you.”

  With that, her hand was gone and Estin found himself alone in the blurry prison of his own mind. He could hear the creaking of armor approaching them and the sharp rasp of blades being drawn. Estin felt around for his own sword, finding that he had lost it somewhere along the way.

  Drowning out everything, Feanne spoke more words in her magical language, the sounds barely even discernable as a dialect. When she finished, Estin heard gasps and a man cursing, followed by the distinct sound of breaking bones and at least eight sets of booted feet rushing in on where he lay.

  Within seconds, there were screams of agony and battle, the sounds of impacts on flesh, and of bodies hitting the pavement. Estin could smell blood everywhere and even the rank odor of a body that had been disemboweled nearby. Terrified at whatever Feanne had called to aid them, he clung to the wall, struggling to see at least enough to avoid being caught in the fray.

  Clearer shapes slowly began to form in his vision, allowing him to see man-sized bodies being tossed about like ragdolls. The details were extremely vague and at least once he thought he saw Feanne in the combat, but he could not be sure. Given the ferocity with which she had tried to defend herself in the throne room, he was willing to bet she fought beside whatever beast she had called, though try as he might, he could not get a glimpse even of its shape. He knew it was there, as he saw one soldier stumble into his limited range of vision missing an arm.

  The commotion soon died down, with several twitching bodies lying around Estin as he remained as motionless as he could manage, while trying to get a glimpse of what was rampaging around him. His vision continued to fade in and out, one moment allowing him to be able to identify the wounded or dying soldiers, the next he could not even see as far as his own hands.

  Abruptly, strong hands grabbed his, their fur covered with warm blood, making him yelp and attempt to scramble away. The hands grasped his wrists firmly, keeping him from moving. After several frantic seconds, his vision drifted mostly back into focus, revealing Feanne kneeling in front of him, spattered head to paw in blood and not all of it her own.

  “It is gone. All gone,” Feanne told him softly, pulling him to his feet. “I sent it away. We are safe now.

  “How are your eyes?”

  Estin blinked hard, trying to clear several dancing spots across his vision.

  “Getting better,” he answered her, pulling his hands away. Sticky blood clung to his wrists. “I can see some colors again.”

  He stared around them at the carnage. The soldiers were torn apart, with gaping wounds or missing limbs. It looked as though they had been gored and trampled. On the far side of the street were dozens of the town’s citizens, staring in shock and disgust, much like Estin guessed he was doing.

  “I had to…,” began Feanne, but Estin raised a hand to cut her off.

  “I don’t think I need the explanation right now,” he told her bluntly, watching as many more people were gathering to stare. Some were now bringing weapons with them. “We need to get out of here, fast.”

  Estin made a quick study of where they were within the city and realized they had actually gone far into the richer part of town, making it a longer trek to the outer gates.

  Snagging one of the fallen soldiers’ swords with his tail, he flicked it into the air and caught it with his hand. Motioning to Feanne to follow, he did the same with the next weapon they passed, then began running for the nearest alley to escape from the public eye.

  “Why are we in here?” she asked, sneering at the piles of trash lining the alley. “There is no exit and we cannot hide in that filth.”

  Holding out the hilt of one of the swords, he answered, “We’re not hiding. This is the best way to get out of town without the guards catching us again.”

  Feanne looked down at the sword and then back up at him with a disappointed frown.

  “Why would you even offer that to me? You apparently need the weapons. I do not.”

  Estin hung his head and shoved the weapon into his belt.

  “Fine, I’m guessing only one of us knows how to use proper weapons?”

  “That would appear to be so,” Feanne answered, something about her tone striking Estin as coy. “Now, how do you expect us to escape from here? I can smell burning tar…the pitchforks are likely not far behind. If you believe we can turn and walk back out of this row of brick walls without being hung, I do look forward to your ideas.”

  Estin checked the entrance of the alleyway. She was right, there were the smells of burning torches and he could hear a great many people gathering. It was very likely that he and Feanne would be lit on fire long before the town guard could even arrive.

  “We go where they can’t go,” he told her, adjusting his clothing and pouches one more time, then pointed up at the wall. “Humans can’t climb very well, so we go up the buildings and travel on the roofs.”

  For the first time since he had seen her, Feanne looked genuinely afraid as she stared wide-eyed at the sheer stone and wooden walls.

  “And how do I escape?” she asked softly.

  “You climb.”

  The fox shook her head slowly, still staring at the wall.

  “I will run anywhere you say, but I do not climb. We need a new plan.”

  “No time,” Estin said firmly, flicking his tail around her waist. He turned to the nearest wooden wall and dug his claws into the boards, bracing for the effort. “Please at least try to help.”

  “What…no!”

  Estin began climbing, nearly losing his grip as Feanne’s added weight dragged him down. Despite her objections, she soon began scrambling at the wall herself, at least lightening his load, even if she was doing little more than scratching up the wood in a blind panic.

  His muscles trembling and burning, Estin advanced up the wall one hand and foot at a time, having to stop after each move to dig his claws in deeply to prevent them from slipping. It was very slow advancement, but by the time he heard the humans entering the alley, he had gotten Feanne above their heads.

  Despite shouts from the peo
ple below, Estin pushed on, forcing himself to go even faster when he heard calls for archers to fire on him. The increased pace was not without its risks and his hands and feet kept tearing away from the wall as he moved, causing sudden lurches in the climb while he tried to reestablish his grip. Each time he slipped, he could hear Feanne let out a little cry as though she believed he would drop her.

  Estin had to assume he had made good time when he reached the top and not a single arrow had been fired yet. With that in mind, he dragged himself over the lip of the roof’s shallow slope and forced his aching and dulled claws into the shingles.

  “You need to pull yourself over the edge!” he gasped, trying not to slide back off the roof. “My tail isn’t strong enough to pull you over.”

  He looked back and saw Feanne pop over the edge several times as she tried to find something to cling to other than his tail. Finally, she got a handhold on the shingles and hoisted herself up beside him, collapsing on the roof.

  “Never again do I climb for you,” she told him grimly, panting and staring up at the sky. “That has to be the least dignified escape I have ever seen. Just let me die next time.”

  “I let one person die today. If another is going to die, I’m dying with them,” said Estin, unwrapping his tail. Pain lanced through it as he attempted to straighten it out.

  “The human girl?”

  Estin turned and stared at Feanne.

  “I saw you both on the balcony,” she confessed, sitting up and glancing down at the people in the alley below. “I had thought she was part of the duke’s guard at first, but when I saw you…”

  “I know…too charming to work for the duke?”

  Feanne stuck her tongue out.

  “Too hairy. He prefers furless.”

  An arrow whizzed past them and over the roof.

  “I think we should hold the bragging until you find a way to get me back to the woods,” Feanne noted, sounding a little annoyed. “Do the humans never give up?”

  “Not until nightfall. Sometimes a little after.”

  Feanne got up first, hugging the shingles as she crawled towards the peak of the roof. She seemed terrified of slipping.