‘Now this is good stuff!’ Clarin congratulated Gyrmund. Even Dirk mumbled an appreciation.
‘So, Elana. That was some impressive magic you used earlier,’ said Soren. ‘How long have you been able to do that?’
‘For a few months now. I wouldn’t call it magic, though.’
‘A few months?’ he repeated.
Belwynn understood what her brother was thinking. He had studied and practised for years, to the point of obsession, to develop his powers. And she had learned to do that in a few months?
‘Not magic?’ asked Belwynn, intrigued.
‘I’m not a wizard, like your brother. I am a vessel; my powers were given to me by Madria. I think it is very different.’
Belwynn nodded. She was still finding it difficult to get her head around the idea of the goddess in all of that.
‘And Rabigar. What made you leave Bidcote and your smithy for this?’ asked Soren.
The Krykker thought about the question. ‘For this?’ he said, gesturing at the Wilderness around them with a wry smile, ‘I have no idea. But I have been an exile from my homeland for many years now, Soren. When you are told that you cannot have something, it makes you want it all the more, am I right?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Kaved, grinning. ‘When a girl says no, for instance?’
Rabigar looked at Kaved with distaste. Belwynn had been too preoccupied to notice before, but even though they were both Krykkers, their relationship seemed strained.
‘I’ve travelled around the lands of Dalriya for many years now, and when I find a place which lets me live in peace, I settle down. After a while, however, I realise how unhappy I am, and that I do not truly have a home. So I pack up and move on again. The smithy is in good hands; my apprentice Ulf has taken it over. Prince Edgar has been very kind to me, but I do not think I shall be returning to Magnia.’
‘Perhaps you felt moved to leave because you have been chosen, Rabigar,’ said Elana in a soft voice. ‘Perhaps we have all been chosen, in our own ways, and given a purpose.’
‘We Krykker are a practical people, lady. We do not think in such mysterious ways.’
‘That is not to say they are not true,’ answered the priestess.
‘Ha,’ barked Kaved. ‘Good luck converting Rabigar Din to your religion, sweetheart.’
‘What does Din mean?’ asked Belwynn. She had only ever heard Rabigar addressed by his first name.
Kaved looked at Rabigar, who didn’t look happy.
‘You better tell ‘em now you’ve said it,’ said the Krykker bladesmith darkly.
‘It’s not a bad name,’ answered Kaved. ‘Krykkers have their hierarchies to maintain, and the number of letters in your name denotes your status. Din is a peasant’s name. When Rabigar was exiled he was also stripped of his status—his old name is gone, and when speaking of him we are supposed to use the name ‘Din’. Those of us with some sympathy call him Rabigar Din.’
Rabigar had been a familiar figure to Belwynn while growing up. Everyone knew about the Krykker bladesmith. They knew he was an exile. And they knew never to ask him why. Kaved was getting very close to the subject, and Belwynn felt uncomfortable and intrigued at the same time.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve told anyone about the reasons for your exile?’ Kaved asked Rabigar, grinning.
‘No,’ said Rabigar.
He wasn’t smiling, and the atmosphere was becoming strained. Kaved, however, seemed unconcerned. ‘Well, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.’
‘You have the advantage over me,’ said Rabigar slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done.’
‘I do, don’t I?’ replied Kaved, a smirk still playing on his face.
‘What about you, Kaved?’ asked Belwynn, trying to turn the conversation around. ‘Were you given a peasant’s name?’
‘Oh, no such excitement for me. I’m from simple warrior stock. No, my reasons for leaving weren’t so special. You could say I have a problem with authority. I prefer to make my own decisions.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Herin.
The tension around the fire eased somewhat, and people began bedding down for the night after an exhausting day. Belwynn knew that she would sleep immediately.
‘We’ll have to keep a watch, tonight,’ said Gyrmund. ‘It’s vital. I’ll go first.’
Belwynn cringed at the idea of staying awake alone during the night in this place. She closed her eyes and hoped that the men would do it, feeling guilty as she did.
‘No, you’ve worked hard today and we’ll need you to be alert tomorrow,’ said Rabigar. ‘You sleep through. I’ll take first watch.’
‘Wake me next,’ offered Clarin. ‘I’ll wake up the loudest snorer.’
Not me, thought Belwynn, relaxing a little.
‘Are there creatures in here, that come out at night?’ asked Moneva after a pause.
‘Most of the creatures in the Wilderness are nocturnal,’ said Gyrmund. ‘You’ve got all your usual rodents—’
‘Wait,’ interrupted Moneva. ‘Please, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know.’
Belwynn was woken by Soren crouching over her.
We’ve got visitors, he explained.
Belwynn immediately got up and began to pick up her possessions. She didn’t need to be told that these ‘visitors’ were not going to be friendly. Where are they? she asked her brother.
Herin says there is a group heading straight this way from the north—he doesn’t know how many, but they’re close.
Everyone was up and ready to leave. Gyrmund silently beckoned them to follow him in an easterly direction, while Herin and Clarin brought up the rear. The group were kept to a slow pace by the need for silence and the fact that it was still dark. Soon, however, they heard screams coming from the direction of their night’s camp.
‘Vossi!’ shouted Gyrmund. ‘We’re going to have to run for it!’
More and more screams came from behind them, and Belwynn felt sick in her stomach as she realised what the numbers of vossi on their trail must be.
There’s got to be a whole tribe of them out there! she said to Soren as they tried to keep up with Gyrmund.
Before her brother could reply, however, Belwynn tripped over a snag in the forest floor and hurtled face-first into the ground. Soren stopped to pick her up, but by the time the twins were on the move again, Herin and Clarin had caught up with them and urged them on faster.
Belwynn looked behind her and immediately wished she hadn’t.
The vossi were plainly visible in the distance. The trees seemed to be crawling with them in every direction as they gave chase, screaming at each other, or maybe at their quarry. They all had the same brown, bark-like skin and were running at full pelt towards them. She could make out small weapons glinting in the dark, spears and daggers, weapons that didn’t slow down their pursuit, unlike the swords and shields that her companions carried. Belwynn’s quick glance was enough to tell her that the vossi were gaining on them, and she smiled bitterly as she realised that the tables had been turned on them—the hunters were now the hunted. Gyrmund was taking them in the opposite direction of Salvinus. In an instant, their plans had disappeared.
The pace of the chase now began to take its toll on the Magnians as they became tired and ragged. Elana was finding it difficult to keep up and was being helped along by Rabigar. Belwynn’s lungs felt like they were going to burst, but fear kept her moving. She heard whistling sounds from behind them and turned to see vossi missiles hurtling towards them. Thankfully, they were falling short of their targets, for now.
After heading in a north-easterly direction for some time, Gyrmund tried to change tack and take them north-west. There were vossi there, however, and a shower of missiles forced him to return
to his original course.
Herin ran up to speak to Gyrmund. ‘We’ve got to do something!’ he shouted. ‘We’re going to end up trapped or walk straight into an ambush!’
‘I know. I’m working on it.’
‘Well, hurry up! We haven’t got much longer,’ demanded Herin. ‘I’m going to buy you some time,’ he said, and returned to his position at the back with his brother.
Belwynn looked back as Herin shouted in Clarin’s ear. The two brothers stopped running and took shelter behind a large tree.
As Clarin hefted his shield off his back, Herin grabbed his longbow and took an arrow from his quiver. Drawing the string back to his chest, he released the bolt at the nearest vossi. It managed to dive out of the way, but Herin was already releasing his second arrow at another of the vossi, and this one struck its target full in the chest. The brothers’ move succeeded in temporarily halting the chasing pack, who stopped to fire their own missiles. Clarin, however, was ready for this, and used his shield to protect both himself and his brother from the long-range attacks. Herin was able to release a few more shots at the enemy, but their position became increasingly precarious as more vossi came into view every second.
Meanwhile, the others had stopped once they had gained a safe distance, and Belwynn watched with increasing foreboding. Kaved must have been doing the same; he now ran back in the direction of the brothers. Belwynn turned to look at Soren, but he was in deep conversation with Gyrmund and Rabigar, while the others were, like her, desperately trying to catch their breath.
The number of missiles raining down on the brothers was now unmanageable, and Clarin was slowly retreating, holding the shield in front of him to stop the darts, spears, knives and other weapons hitting flesh, moving from one clump of trees to the next. At the same time, the vossi had become bolder, and several them charged at the brothers, both of whom drew their swords. The longer reach of the brothers allowed them to swing their weapons and connect with the vossi enemy. Herin leapt back out of reach of the retaliatory blows, while Clarin used his shield to further effect and stopped any of the vossi breaching his defence.
Kaved had now reached the conflict after running at full speed towards them. ‘Run!’ he shouted at the brothers as he let his charge carry him into the vossi, sword and axe both twirling about him.
‘Move it!’ shouted Gyrmund, seeing Herin’s stand fall apart. Belwynn forced herself to turn away from what was happening behind them and followed Gyrmund’s lead. He was taking them in the same north-easterly direction as before. Her left ankle sent jolts of pain around her body every time she put her weight on it, and she realised that she must have damaged it in her earlier fall. The adrenaline of the chase had masked the pain until now, but she was determined not to slow everyone else down and pressed on. Their brief rest had allowed the vossi who had been running parallel to the group to almost catch up with them, and they were forced to head due east as more vossi missiles clattered into the trees around them.
Belwynn looked behind her and was relieved to see the figures of Herin, Clarin, and Kaved all sprinting in her direction, followed by the vossi, who now looked even more terrifying as they screamed out their challenges, intent on taking revenge for their fallen tribesmen.
Ahead of her, Gyrmund seemed to be looking around frantically as he led the group on, as if trying to find a landmark amidst the endless backdrop of forest. He must have spotted what he was looking for, as he whirled around to speak to the rest of the group.
‘Soren is going to cast a spell of protection over us so that the vossi can’t reach us. He can only keep it going for a short while, so follow me closely and don’t stop for anything. We’re heading for a bridge.’
Herin and the others had caught up and heard the last half of Gyrmund’s message, but there was no time for questions as he turned back and headed north-west at running pace.
Belwynn let out a whimper as she forced herself to start running again. Clarin must have overheard, as he gripped her under the arm and ran next to her, taking some of the weight off her ankle. ‘I’m in the wars too,’ he confided, and nodded down at his right leg, where a vossi dart was protruding from his thigh.
Belwynn would have asked after his injury, but she no longer had the breath for speech. Gyrmund’s route was now leading them into the chasing vossi, who were already dispatching their missiles at him. Soren’s magic was working, however, as the missiles which struck his invisible barrier bounced off it. Belwynn knew how much concentration and effort was required to keep the barrier effective and was relieved to see that Moneva had guessed as much and was leading her brother through the maze of trees and other obstacles.
Gyrmund reached the waiting vossi, and he and Rabigar began slicing into the creatures. The vossi were unable to break through the barrier, but they seemed quite able to send their weapons the other way. When Kaved moved up and joined in with the free hacking, the uneven nature of the contest forced the vossi to retreat out of the way, and Gyrmund was able to lead them on.
Belwynn sighed with relief as they began to move again. They were now surrounded by the vossi on every side, pressing in on them, trying to find a weakness in Soren’s defences. She could see their faces quite clearly, painted with red dye, all scarred brown skin and dark eyes staring at her. They were sending killing blows straight for her, and only Soren’s magic was stopping them from connecting. She felt panic rise within her and looked over at her brother, knowing that soon his powers would fade and they would be doomed, chopped to pieces here in the middle of this horrible forest. She wanted to communicate with him and ask how long he could carry on, but knew that it would just be a distraction for him.
When would they get to this damned bridge? The only thing keeping Belwynn sane was Clarin’s tight grip on her, guiding her along and lending her his strength and confidence.
Then, suddenly, they were upon the bridge. It was a rickety looking thing, made of rope and wood, and Belwynn seriously wondered whether it was safe to cross. She did not for a moment, however, think of not attempting it—such was her desperation to leave their pursuers behind. Some of the vossi tried to prevent their passage, but Herin moved forward to attack along with the two Krykkers, and they were soon dispersed. The vossi were now totally disorganised—their quarry had turned back in on them and they had lost their shape, along with some of their warriors. They continued to scream at each other, but none of them seemed able to take charge of the situation.
Meanwhile, Gyrmund began to lead the party across the river. Elana balked at stepping onto the bridge and stared down at the fast-moving current of the river below. Dirk, however, grabbed her by the wrists with a look of wild panic on his face and dragged her onto the structure. Clarin shoved Belwynn forward behind the priestess as he and his brother brought up the rear.
By the time Belwynn reached the other side of the bridge, Kaved and Rabigar were already cutting the rope and chopping the planks of wood which kept the bridge secured to their side of the riverbank. She leapt off the end of the bridge without looking back and ran to where the others had taken cover behind a copse of trees a few yards away.
The vossi were still shooting at them across the river, and Soren maintained his spell, the strain evident on his face. Belwynn peeked through the trees to see the two brothers and the two Krykkers sprinting away from the riverside in their direction. The bridge which had saved their lives was now floating on top of the water, and on the other side of the river the vossi screamed in frustration as those who had tried to follow the group across the bridge pulled themselves out of the water.
Belwynn pulled back and, letting out a sigh of relief, leaned over to speak to her twin. ‘You can stop now Soren. We’re safe.’
VIII
The Stand
As the group caught their breath and their bearings, Elana began to tend to the injured parties. She slid the dart out from Clarin�
�s thigh and inspected the wound.
‘It’s poisoned,’ she informed the warrior matter-of-factly.
Clarin frowned, the closest he came to showing any signs of concern. ‘Will it be alright?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ replied the priestess confidently, and forced a finger into the hole made by the dart, wiggling it around inside. She then held her hand over the wound for some time, letting her healing powers flow into Clarin’s leg.
‘I wish I’d been hit by a dart,’ leered Herin, leaning over to inspect Elana’s handiwork.
‘And not in the leg, either,’ joined in Kaved.
Belwynn couldn’t appreciate their banter so soon after their near-death experience. Her body was still shaking uncontrollably, and she just hoped that no-one else would notice.
Elana left Herin to bandage up his brother’s thigh and walked over to where Belwynn was sitting next to Soren.
She distrusted the priestess. Soren was tired after his exertions, but he would recover, and Belwynn knew best how to look after him. After all, she had been looking after him since before she could remember. It wouldn’t hurt to have Elana look at her own ankle, however, and she would be able to examine the priestess’s claims of healing powers at the same time.
‘Soren is fine,’ Belwynn informed her, ‘he just needs to rest.’
Elana nodded in acceptance. ‘Shall I take a look at your ankle, then? I noticed you hobbling.’
‘Yes, please, Elana.’
The priestess knelt in front of Belwynn and took hold of her left foot, resting it in her lap. The ankle was throbbing. Belwynn doubted whether she would be able to walk on it for some time, and feared holding back the rest of the group.
Toric's Dagger: Book One of The Weapon Takers Saga Page 9
