by Sean Golden
Soon Lirak and Thorn were the only ones awake. The thunder had died down, but a steady downpour fell outside. The fire threw shadows against the walls. Lirak looked east, into the falling rain. He was unable to see anything. Sometimes he stole a look at Mayrie’s sleeping form. She had healed well, he thought. Her face in the firelight looked like the Mayrie he had always known, the scar on her cheek now looking like a permanent dimple. Her rib would take a little longer to fully heal, but he knew that the real damage to Mayrie had been done inside her heart and head.
The rain continued. Above the trees it was probably falling in sheets, but by the time it worked its way through the canopy, it was a steady stream of great drops falling. A sudden boom of thunder woke everyone up, and Niwoq rose up too fast, banging his head on the rock above him. His cursing was loud enough to be heard above the storm. Lirak looked at Mayrie and caught her smiling. It was the first smile he had seen on her face since coming back from the Gap.
Unable to see the stars, Lirak watched as long as he could stay awake before waking Patrik. He put some more wood on the fire. The storm was still blowing hard, and Patrik merely nodded and sat up, motioning for Lirak to sleep. Lirak lay on his leafy bed and soon his eyes closed.
Lirak dreamed of thunder. Again he found himself far above the trees, flying like an eagle. But the thunder was not above him, it was below him. He looked down and saw the great forest as always. But to the south the forest came to an end. And at the edge of the forest he saw a huge wall of stone. Men stood on the wall, but not men like Lirak had ever seen. Their hair was fair and their bodies were tall and slender. Most were taller than Jerok. Their clothes were strange too, and all were wearing the same thing. They wore gray pants with yellow shirts. Over the shirts they wore a hard, shiny plate. Most didn’t have bows. Instead each of them carried a long stick with a shiny blade on one end. They stood in rows on the top of the wall. But at some points along the wall, dozens of men with bows stood, holding their bows, but doing nothing.
There was a sudden flash of light followed by a resounding ‘boom!’ and Lirak watched as a part of the great wall collapsed, men and stone all falling together. On the forest side of the wall Lirak saw a great mass of men, all dressed as the insect men of his earlier dream. As he watched he saw a streak of light leap forth and with another great flash and crash of thunder more of the wall fell. A great shout came up from the invading army, and they rushed forward like a host of insects. As they ran arrows began falling on them from the bowmen on the wall. Lirak heard another great shout and he looked beyond the wall where another host of the fair men stood in their battle garb, and they too rushed toward the broken section of the wall. When they met, a great sound of battle rose up.
“Wake up!” Mayrie was shaking him from one side, and Thorn was licking his face from the other. “Wake up Lirak!” Her face was white and behind her Lirak saw Jerok and Patrik. The shelter was quiet except for someone’s hard and heavy breathing. Gradually he realized the sound of breathing came from him.
“I’m awake!” he managed to get out. He took a great breath, and then forced his breathing to slow. Mayrie stopped shaking him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Mayrie looked at him, the concern on her face clear. “Are you okay?” she said.
“Yes, I’m awake,” he said. He saw that daylight was filtering into the shelter. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you tell us?” Jerok asked. “You were thrashing around yelling ‘look out!’ You scared us half to death.”
“I had a dream,” he said. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize I was doing that.” He reddened in embarrassment.
“What did you dream?” Mayrie asked, her face relaxing, but still showing great concern.
Lirak started to tell them, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I can’t describe it. It’s too strange. But it was about the invaders I think.”
“Were you fighting them?” Mayrie’s face betrayed an inner excitement.
“No, not me. They were fighting something else, something at the edge of the forest.”
Patrik looked puzzled “What is the edge of the forest?” he asked.
Hetyl spoke from behind him “Forest doesn’t go forever. Mountains block the west, sea blocks the east and desert blocks the north. South is blocked by great wall.”
Lirak sat up and looked at Hetyl. “What kind of wall?” he asked.
“Chutan, he knows,” Hetyl replied.
Lirak took a deep breath. “That’s what was in my dream, a great wall, and men fighting at the wall.”
Nobody said anything. Patrik turned and began picking up his things.
“Let’s get ready to head out. The storm is over, and we’ll have a harder time tracking them now.”
Wordlessly, the group pulled their things together, ate a short breakfast and left the shelter.
Sometime later, Mayrie walked beside Lirak, but said nothing. After a while she tentatively reached out with her right hand, taking Lirak’s left and entwining her fingers in his. Lirak squeezed her hand in response. They walked a short time hand-in-hand before Lirak gently pulled his hand away and moved further up to talk with Jerok.
The forest smelled fresh and clean. The birds and beasts of the forest lived their lives as they always had. Lirak sometimes got lost in the smells, feel and sounds of the forest. He was enjoying a light breeze in this way when Jerok suddenly made a “shhhh!” sound, holding a finger to his lips. He gestured to the left of the trail and the group quickly moved behind a small bushy area.
“Someone’s coming,” Jerok hissed, his mouth close to Lirak’s ear. “I’ll go scout.”
Before Lirak could object, Jerok was on his hands and knees, moving quickly around the bushes. Lirak heard a strange sound, a sort of ‘clop, clop’ sound from ahead. He moved to the edge of the bush to see if he could see what it was. From his hidden spot he saw Jerok lying prone on the ground ahead of him behind a bush. Beyond him Lirak saw a strange sight. A man’s head and shoulders rose above the bushes, taller than any man he had ever seen. But he bobbed strangely, up and down with each ‘clop’ that Lirak heard. He held something in his arms that looked vaguely like a bow, but it seemed to be attached to a stick. The arrowhead sticking out of the front of it was unmistakable though. But what made Lirak’s insides go all soft and queasy was that he was unmistakably one of the invaders.
Lirak saw in an instant that Jerok had misjudged, that the invader’s head was too high for the low bush to conceal Jerok. He saw that Jerok had realized that too and was trying to pull his legs up without making a sound. Lirak quickly pulled his bow from his shoulder, using a move long practiced in his hunting; he barely made a sound or jostled a leaf. Another such move and he nocked an arrow to the bowstring. It was almost too late. The invader had seen Jerok and was swinging his bow-like device to point at Jerok. Lirak didn’t hesitate, he aimed his arrow right at the throat of the invader, where he could see skin, and let it fly.
The arrow hit the invader in the hollow of his throat. With a short gurgling sound, he fell over backwards, dropping the device as he fell. Jerok took one look backwards, his face white with fear, and then he leaped up, pulling his knife, and jumped over the bush. At the same time Lirak saw a large black animal run off the trail. Lirak noticed that it was strangely similar to the white animal he had seen in the forest so long ago, but knew that this was one of the beasts that the invaders rode.
“He’s dead,” Jerok said from the trail. Lirak and the others went out to join him. Lirak felt light-headed and the words sounded like they came from a distance.
“Killed one shot!” Hetyl said, the admiration clear in his voice. “In the throat! Why shoot the throat?”
Lirak looked at the dead man feeling dazed and his ears buzzed strangely. He was a killer now. He had killed a man. He knew that he had sworn an oath to kill all of these men, but this was the first time he had seen one of his arrows protruding from the dead body of another man. He felt sick. He trie
d to answer Hetyl, but instead he turned away from the others and emptied his stomach on the ground. Mayrie held his head and muttered words of comfort.
Finally Lirak’s head stopped swimming and his stomach stopped churning. He sat up on his knees. Jerok came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Lirak, I think you probably saved my life right there.”
The two of them got up and stood over the man. His face was light-skinned, but his hair was dark. When he fell a covering had fallen off his head. Jerok picked it up and rapped it with a knuckle. It made a dull ringing noise. Jerok saw that the man had been wearing the same sort of garment as he had found at the killing field. It was wrapped around his torso, and Lirak knew that his arrow would have just bounced off if he had shot for the heart.
“I thought he might be wearing something like this,” he said.
“What?” Jerok asked.’
“That’s why I shot him in the throat. I thought he might be wearing something like this. I wanted to be sure and kill him.”
“Well, I’m glad you did, I would have tried for his heart and been killed for sure,” Jerok said.
“We need to get him off the trail,” Baxi said. “We don’t want others to see him.”
They dragged the dead man off the trail. Patrik took a branch from a tree and tried to cover the tracks as well as he could. Once they got him behind the bushes, Hetyl began to search the body. He found pouches on the man’s belt, and found something like leaves, but white with strange markings on them in his shirt.
“This writing,” Hetyl said. “Burn it.” He gave it to Patrik.
On the dead man’s side was a small quiver which held many of the arrow-like things his device used. Unable to figure out how it worked, the group decided to leave it. One pouch held food and they left that too. Another smaller pouch held strange round objects with faces carved into them. They were made of the same sort of material as the vest he had worn. On his other side they found a long blade, also made of the same material. Patrik took this and spent a long time examining it. Finally he said “This is a good blade. It’s sharp and hard, but not brittle like stone. It’s not as sharp as one of our blades, but it’s strong. I’ll take this.” He worked out how to wear the dead man’s belt and he hung the blade at his side. Nobody objected.
“I’ll take this then” Jerok said, putting the bowl shaped object on top of his head, where it sat oddly, with Jerok’s flowing hair streaming out from underneath on the back and sides. Jerok rapped his knuckles on the object and it made the same dull ringing sound. He smiled. “You thought I had a hard head before.”
Finally they finished searching the man. As they stood up to go, Mayrie walked over to the dead man. Suddenly she kicked him in the head, hard. Then she kicked him again. Then she was screaming at him and on her knees beating the body in the chest with her fists. Her fists made a “chunk” sound when they hit the strange material. Her knuckles began to bleed. Lirak rushed over and grabbed her, pulling her away from the dead invader. She fought him blindly for a moment, and then calmed down. The group looked away as she regained her composure. When Lirak let go, she stood for a moment, and then with all the grace and poise she could manage, she strode over to the body, and spat on his staring face.
“Pig,” she said.
Lirak and Jerok again climbed to the top of a hill. This time there was no opening in the trees, so they decided to climb the tallest tree they could find. Soon they were high up in an oak tree where they had a clear view of the forest ahead.
“The smoke’s further south,” Jerok said.
“It hasn’t moved far,” Lirak pointed out.
“Maybe it won’t move for a few more days,” Jerok said.
Lirak didn’t reply. He was trying to look beyond the smoke, to see if he could see the great wall of his dream and Hetyl’s story. But he only saw trees spreading out as far as he could see.
“What if they are all dressed like he was?” Jerok suddenly said.
“They probably will be,” Lirak said, “In my dreams they are.”
“How can we fight them?” Jerok asked. “They’ll be like giants; they’ll crush us like bugs.”
“We don’t have to fight them their way, Jerok” Lirak said. “You don’t kill a panther with your teeth.”
Jerok nodded. “Well, with a panther my bow is a better weapon than his teeth. I’d feel a lot better if those demons used teeth. But they don’t. They use magical blades that don’t break and wear hides that arrows can’t pierce.”
“But they are still flesh and bone,” Lirak said. “And they can’t wear their hides all the time. And even if they do, I am sure they’ll burn just as easily wearing that hide as they would without it.”
Jerok looked at his brother. “You have changed,” he said.
“We all have,” Lirak said.
“We still have two or three days to reach them,” Jerok said.
“Sooner,” Lirak said.
“What do you mean?” Jerok asked.
“They won’t be foolish enough to let us walk into their camp, Jerok. They’ll have men out scouting the area. We’ll have to deal with the scouts first. We’ve already found one, I think. There will be more. I think it’s time we got off the trail and headed through the forest.”
Jerok thought about it. “But that will slow us down,” he said.
“I think we’ll have plenty of time,” Lirak said. “I don’t think our villages were ever their targets. We were just in their way. Killing and raping our people was just a game to them. I think they are fighting a different foe. And that one will keep them tied up for a while.”
“The wall?” Jerok asked.
“And the men who built it,” Lirak replied.
They returned to the others.
The party turned off the trail and into the forest. Jerok scouted ahead, looking for the best path through the undergrowth. Travel was more difficult off of the trail and Jerok sometimes came back saying that they needed to backtrack to find another path. All day they fought clinging vines, low-hanging branches and sudden gullies or impenetrable hedges. At midday the following day, the party was ready to stop and eat a short lunch.
“We’re moving too slow,” Baxi said.
“The trail isn’t safe, Baxi,” Jerok said. “If two or three of those men appear at once, we’ll be fighting our way through this forest being chased by those huge beasts and dodging arrows, no doubt.”
Baxi didn’t respond, and quietly ate his meal.
One positive aspect of the decision to move through the forest was that they found it easier to take some small game to replenish their dwindling food supplies. Mayrie was tending a small fire where she was cooking strips of meat from groundbirds. Patrik and Niwoq had each managed to bring one down with their slings, saving their arrows. The birds would give them plenty of meat for another day or so. Mayrie and Hetyl also found berries and herbs to supplement their diet, and the forest had plentiful creeks for water.
But some of those creeks cut deep gullies in the forest floor, and that was the most frequent cause of delays. The soft forest floor could crumble suddenly near the edge of a gully, and on more than one occasion one of the party had fallen or stumbled when the ground gave way beneath them as they tried to crawl down into a gully, or back up out of one. One such gully was forcing them further east than Lirak liked, and that was why he had decided to stop for lunch at a small open area just to the north of the gully to think. After finishing his light meal, he put his heaviest load on the ground, and walked to the very edge of the gully with his bow. The north side of the gully was cut steeply into the bank, and the creek was fifteen feet or so down, where the creek bubbled as it flowed to the east. The other side of the gully was not so steep, but the earth appeared soft and sandy. Lirak knew that such areas could make for hard and slow travel.
He looked east and the creek turned toward the south, hiding the bank after a few hundred feet, so it was impossible to tell how long before they could find a suita
ble place to cross. On the trail a creek such as this would have been much easier to cross. Lirak moved east on the edge of the gully, careful not to walk too close to the edge where he could easily fall in. He reached the bend and beyond it he saw more of the same fifteen-foot drop along the edge as it curved back around to the south. He could still just barely hear the voices of Mayrie and Hetyl at the fire, but could not make out any words. He decided to go on to the next bend and see if the situation improved. Thorn padded silently beside him.
As he approached the next bend, he saw that the bank on the other side opened into a large meadow, where the sun beat down on wildflowers among the grass. The bank along the northern side dropped suddenly, and Lirak saw that another stream flowed from the north and joined the first stream. Where the two joined, the bank had been cut down and had washed away. It looked like a good place to cross. He was turning around to head back to the others when he noticed that Thorn had frozen, and his hackles were up. He was looking back toward the meadow. Lirak stopped and froze himself. He knew from his own hunting that a sudden movement could attract more attention than a figure standing in plain sight. He used a technique he had mastered in his years of hunting, and in a slow but deliberate movement, he dropped and turned in the same slow, even motion, until he was crouched beside Thorn looking back into the meadow. Thorn’s tail brushed his ankle as it twitched slowly.
From out of the forest on the far side of the meadow, four men walked out into the sunlight. Each led one of the great beasts that the invaders sometimes rode. Each of them was dressed in the same garb as the one Lirak had killed. He watched them tie some cords that were attached to the heads of the beasts to a bush in the meadow. The beasts stood idly where they had been left. Two of the men brought out their odd bow-like devices and positioned themselves in the meadow where they could keep an eye on the stream and the forest. The other two began gathering small sticks and started to make a fire.
