The camp stirred as the brigands mobilized and readied for action. Two larger brigands were appointed to lead each group along with a tracker each. Gund took the northern group while Boxer took the southern one. He noticed the heavy rain was making it hard to see even in the daytime, and even their own many tracks were quickly being washed away by the water, so he didn’t hold out much hope to find them today, but he had to make the effort.
The night before, the brigands had felled several trees, using their massive trunks to sit on, and a large mountain rock nearby was rolled over to Khan’s tent. He sat on the rock and pulled a finely crafted glass orb from his secondary pack and started to rub it with his hands. He was going to see if he could use a bit of magic to find the Ulathans.
Salina made it back to the cabin almost out of breath. By now, the entire camp was stirring and everyone was awake. Will had not allowed Marissa to take anyone into the forest to forage for food. They were all sitting fairly miserably in the small blind, packed together rather tightly. While not very comfortable, it at least allowed them to conserve body heat for warmth.
“Well?” Will asked, a concerned look on his face.
“Holy mother of Agon,” Salina said, getting a much better look at his face this time around. “You look terrible! Agatha, come see this!” motioning for her to come over.
“I’ve already seen him, and the big lug won’t let me down to the pool to wash his dirty bandages. We are out of food and clean cloths, and the wound isn’t healing,” Agatha said, but this time in a more serious, somber tone.
Salina could see his bandages were almost completely soaked in blood. “Sit down, Will, you can’t stand there all day,” she said, grabbing his good arm and leading him to the back of the blind toward the corner where Yolanda and Amy were still huddled. “Agatha, go to the pool but stay out of sight of the river. A group of the Kesh thieves are heading this way along the opposite side of the river.”
Agatha quickly departed, but the others started to murmur.
“You can’t have me back here, lady,” said Will, looking weak but firmly pleading his concerns. “I need to be near the door and keep guard.”
“No need for that now. I’ll return if they come near the cabin. You just get some rest and some sleep, if you can. We will need your strength again before this is all over.”
Will just nodded and slumped back in the corner next to Yolanda, who held Amy tighter. Salina saw Cedric finishing the last few leaves of some raw wild cabbages.
“Better if you left me at the thieves’ camp, Mother,” he said, making a face. “I thought these things tasted bad when they’re cooked, but I was wrong!”
“Yeah, I know, better cooked and they are bitter, but they will fill the belly if nothing else. Did you get the handful of nuts I left for you?”
“Yes, Thomas and I split them. Thank you.”
“Good, now lie there next to Karz and get some rest.”
“Where are you going?”
“To keep an eye on those brigands,” Salina said, and then she smiled and grabbed the other crossbow—Jons still clung to his—and wrapped her cloak tightly around her body and headed north toward the pool and the river, passing Agatha as she knelt washing Will’s dirty bandages.
She had to protect the ford. She estimated the brigands, who were traveling slowly and following the tracker who was looking for any signs on the ground, should be arriving soon. She had to wait only ten minutes before she saw the group across the river from her vantage spot near the pool. Agatha had just left, and not a moment too soon.
If she thought she was terrified when she first saw them far away from their camp, her fear was doubled at the sight of the grimly armed group of men not more than a few hundred yards away from the blind on the other side of the river. The thought of those cutthroats so close to her own children and her fellow Ulathans made her both afraid and sick.
Luckily, the group of men kept moving north, and Salina started to track them from inside the forest about fifty yards from the river’s edge. She moved as silently as she could from tree to tree, but it didn’t matter, really. It was dark and overcast, raining hard with a wild wind that blew in gusts and stirred the canopy of leaves in the forest all around her. Add to that the roar of the river’s rapids as it churned all that water, and she wasn’t sure she could get their attention even if she yelled at them.
The water was indeed rising in the river with all that rain and the newly melted mountain snow. Salina reached the ford located above the many rocks and white water of the river, and the other group halted there as well. This was her biggest fear. This was the ford they had used to cross the wild river. It was still deep and the water was running faster, but she felt a shiver as they stopped and started to look and motion across. Salina readied her crossbow and lay down next to a tree, steadying the bow while aiming at the men on the other side.
There seemed to be some sort of argument as one man motioned and the other shook his head from side to side. After some heated debate and probably yelling, though she heard nothing, the group started again and continued north and eventually out of sight. Salina did not follow. There was nothing north of there, except the main bridge over the old trade road, and that would take a day, if not longer, to reach at the pace they were traveling, especially if she factored in the weather. She just lay there and started to sob.
Targon woke before dawn. It was still dark outside, but the faint glow of the rising dragon’s fire could barely be seen as he exited the cave and returned to the mountain meadow. The bear had arisen sometime before and was foraging again near the blueberry bushes, seemingly ignoring him. Targon walked to the eastern end of the meadow and scrambled back up the twenty feet of rock and granite to stand once again on a high mountain ledge separating Ulatha from Kesh. The rain had stopped, but it was cloudy and overcast. There wasn’t much to see as he looked east into Kesh and stood there shivering, as his clothes were damp, if no longer soaking wet.
He finally saw in the faint light the line of a road from his south looping back up to the north and continuing out of sight east. He saw no movement on the road, and hope left him, while despair replaced it. Slowly, he started to realize his hope of rescuing his family and warning his realm of the danger it was in wasn’t going to happen. He was too late with the latter, and his family appeared to be out of his grasp for now. Hungry, cold, somewhat wet, and completely saddened, the young man took one final look into Kesh and made an important though mature decision.
He scrambled back down the cliff face to the meadow and walked by the bear, who paused to look at him. “Come on, Carrot, let’s go home.” The bear followed, seeming to snort in agreement, and Targon didn’t bother to try to eat anything.
The entire day was overcast and the sun rose, but was never seen, only felt, just beyond the dark grey glooming cloud cover. Targon decided to head due west. Even when he reached the road, he did not stay on it. He felt he was foolish for using the road like a common merchant the day before, and he knew he was lucky no bandit guards spotted him at the mountain pass.
Walking cross country was nothing new for him, and after some time, he felt he should have spotted either his home or the road from it, but instead, he walked right up to the Rapid River as the sun set. This confused him as he looked both up and down the river. His home was just a few hours’ walk from the main road, and he was sure he should have been there by now. He kept the dark, glooming Blackthorn Forest to his left, and he could see its northern edge even now, but he didn’t recognize where he was at. He started to walk along the riverbank and eventually reached the forest as well.
There, at the edge of the forest, was the huge granite boulder he was familiar with, marking the spot where he often went spearfishing in the river. He was confused because the boulder was located in an open field about a quarter hour’s walk northwest of his home, but the forest had somehow reached the rock, which
was not possible. Targon scratched his head, deciding to head southeast, entering the forest. It was dark and not easy to keep his bearings without any stars or even the twin moons’ light to guide him, but eventually, he came upon a wooded clearing, and there in the middle sat his home. Targon looked around and could not believe the sight.
“Well, hello!” Elister said, exiting the front door of the cabin and walking over to where Targon stood dumbfounded with his jaw half open. “How do you like it?”
Targon looked at the old man, and for a brief moment, he felt fear, fear and power. “What happened here?”
“Come on, I was hoping you’d return sooner, but this will have to do. First, let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into something drier, if not warmer, eh?” he said, taking Targon’s arm and leading him to the front door.
“Well done, Core, I am glad you looked after Master Terrel.” The bear snorted and followed the old man, ending in a growl. “Kesh bandits, indeed! Two of them no less, and Master Targon took care of a third?” The bear swung its massive head and lay down on the porch, curling up into a large ball of brown fur with its head between its massive front paws. “Well, we’ll talk more about that later. Argyll told me about the fence, but I’m glad you didn’t try to break that down as well.” And the old man guided Targon into his house from the front door and offered him a seat at their old table, which was newly repaired.
“Really? You think I believe you’re actually talking to Carrot there?” Targon asked as he took off his tunic and boots while the old man went across the room and grabbed something from a large burlap bag. “I mean, he seems like a really smart bear, but not very communicative, if you know what I mean.”
“Carrot?” Elister asked, turning around and raising both eyebrows. “Show a little more respect for Core. At least he had the sense to get out of the rain and find something to eat. Animals are a lot smarter than people give them credit for. Here, try these on>” He pulled out a cotton white shirt and black breeches.
“Thanks,” Targon said, taking the dry clothes and changing into them. He took his leather tunic and pants off, giving them to Elister, who hung them over a wooden stick hanging by the hearth, which had a roaring fire burning within it. “Still, you didn’t answer my first question. What happened here?”
“Well,” the old man said, stoking the fire with a metal rod and grabbing another chair that looked a bit rickety, but he sat on it nonetheless. “I don’t like to stray far from the forest, and it seemed we were in need of some type of living quarters other than your old shed by the river, so I invited the forest to your home and made a few repairs.”
Targon looked around and noticed the door in the back wall was repaired, though he could clearly see the cracks in between the replaced hinges so it was obvious the old man was no carpenter, but the rest of the place seemed almost the same as he remembered it on his mother’s birthday. “Impossible!”
“Maybe it would be better if I showed you? If you’re done dressing, let’s go outside. Oh, use these boots. They may be a tad small for you, but at least they are dry.” And he handed over a set of black leather boots with high shin guards.
“Yuck, these are Kesh boots,” he said, making a face as he looked at the old man, who said nothing but frowned back. “Okay, fine, I’ll put them on.”
Targon finished dressing, departed his home, and passed the bear, now sound asleep on the front porch. He stood and waited for the old man to say something. Elister took one look at Core and shook his head as he walked over next to Targon. “You’d think sleeping all winter would be enough. Anyway, yes, the forest. See how beautiful it is now wrapped protectively around your little cabin?”
“Yes, I see that, but I want to know how that happened,” Targon stated.
“Well, the trees were invited to join us, as I said, but let me show you a little of my handiwork over here,” Elister said as he took Targon by the arm and guided him to where the trackway should have been. In its place, Targon could clearly see tall meadow grass almost knee high, and the old man started to walk along it, weaving in and out of the various trees that were getting thicker and thicker as they moved.
“You did this?” Targon asked.
“Yes, a little grass seed, some weed pollen, the rain, and, of course, a little encouragement, and the ugly scars of people have been healed. In fact, the area looks much the same as it did before the first Terrels arrived centuries ago.”
Targon was amazed. If the old man hadn’t guided him, he would have had no idea the trackway was under his very feet. Any sign of it was gone to the wilds of the forest, grasses, and bushes that seemed to have grown or sprouted right before him in the last two days. Targon stopped moving and pulled away from the old man. “If you can do this, what else can you do?”
The old man looked at Targon for a moment and then seemed to understand. “Yes, of course, this is a bit much for you city folk . . .”
“City folk!” Targon exclaimed, slightly offended.
“Well, fine, then, not city folk, but you still don’t understand the ways of nature and Agon, though I must admit the Terrels came closer than most. Come on, then, let’s get back to something familiar for you so you don’t spook so easily out here in the woods.” And he took Targon by the arm again, and they quickly returned to the cabin. “Sit, let me make you some hot tea, and you’ll feel better soon enough.”
The old man grabbed one of Targon’s mother’s wooden cups, which were the only ones left that weren’t broken. Taking the metal pot he had placed over the hearth sometime before he proceeded to pour hot water from it into the cup, adding a few tea leaves from a small pouch tied to his belt. “Here you go, drink for a moment and relax.”
Targon drank and felt calmer but eyed the old man warily. “If you can do this, why can’t you kill the Kesh? You could have stopped them or even saved Ulatha from what happened, not to mention my family,” he said, looking down and breaking eye contact with the old man.
“Well, yes and no,” the old man said, putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward, waiting for Targon to resume eye contact. “I can see your fear, at least your fear of not understanding,” the old man resumed, waving off any remarks to the contrary by Targon, “but my situation is, shall we say, delicate, if nothing else. I am Arnen, one of the keepers of Agon. Confusing to you because you have not heard of my kind before, but in the common tongue, we go by the name of druids.” He paused to see if Targon understood. “There is power in the Arnen, but the Great Calamity the greed of man initiated left Agon weak and decadent and destroyed the many facets of the Arnen.”
“So, you’re like some sort of god or demigod?” Targon asked in awe.
Elister chuckled and shook his head. “I was born a wee lad like yourself long ago and raised as one of the Arnen. The Earlstyne Forest was in my care . . . Well, I should say the Blackthorn Forest so you understand me clearly, but it seems a shame to call such a grand old forest with such a noble name something so simple and demeaning as Blackthorn.” When there was no comment from a stunned Targon, the old man continued. “Long ago, the forest was much larger, but in the many centuries since then, we are down to the heart of the forest now and this is all I have left to care for. There was once a time when I could walk from the Felsic Mountains to the Great Western Sea and never set foot in the sunlight, always protected by the cool leaves of the Earlstyne, but alas, those days were long ago.”
“What about Kesh? Why didn’t you stop them?”
“Well, quite frankly I know a lot from my little friends, but it appears all the wizards weren’t killed in the Great Calamity, or at least their craft appeared to survive. The attack on Ulatha was directed by them.”
“Wizards?” Targon asked, surprised by the news. He had heard from early childhood about the wizards from Kesh but also how they were all destroyed in a fiery mutual destruction of not only them but the dragons as well.
“Yes, even now there is one near your killing shed by the river, and he is searching for your friends.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Targon asked as he started to think about Lady Salina and the women and children he left behind, his last thought lingering on Marissa.
“Because he just started trying to use his perversion of our nature and I became aware of him. Besides, a lone wizard is the least of your worries right now. Your friends are cold, wet, and hungry and lost without you, and they face many brigands across the river. Only the heavy rains and some intervention of my own have kept their location a secret. You need to do something!”
Targon thought for a long moment and looked at the old man. He understood now that whatever he was going to do needed to come from him. The old man could be useful, for sure, but it was obvious that either due to social aversion or some ancient code, he would help but not lead. Perhaps it was forbidden for him to help directly? “How much help can you give me?” Targon asked, calmer this time.
Elister looked at Targon intently before answering, as if deciding himself just how much he could help or even disclose to the young man. “My assistance is limited to the forest,” he said at last with a sigh. “The power of the Arnen is connected to its heart, and my heart is the heart of this forest. Deep within the forest, I am as one with Agon. Away from the forest, my powers wane and I age faster than normal. Such is the cycle, but soon, my time on Agon will be over, and it’s time for a new generation to care for her. You, Targon, are one of many who must decide to protect and serve Agon and her inhabitants or allow evil to grow and fester in the many corners of the world until all of Agon is consumed with it.”
“So you hid my home by inviting the forest to surround it, and you hid the trackway by planting . . . grass and bushes?”
Elister smiled. “Something like that. Now you’re catching on.”
Ranger Rising: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 1 (Ranger Series) Page 18
