“I wish you the best of fortune and pray that the shadows will always be kind to you.”
*****
With the new light of the morning Cero left Skelceri behind him. Peren had provided him with a sturdy pack and all the water skins that could be spared. On top of this Cero had been equipped with a hunting knife, an old hunting bow with a couple dozen arrows and enough food to last for weeks if carefully consumed. Cero was now better equipped than before he had lost his possessions when he had been captured by the trackers. The pack was decidedly heavier for the additions but Cero was glad for the kindness that he had been shown.
There were no trails besides those forged by wild animals once the outlying village garden plots were passed. Tricks that Cero had learned years ago of telling direction along with his own keen sense of direction kept him headed southward through the trackless wastes. The drier patch of ground that the village was built on was soon left behind and replaced by the swamp proper.
The smells of rotting vegetation and stagnant water grew stronger as Cero threaded his way past the muddy patches. Here and there the mud was supplemented by pools of dark water. The green flat meadows that Peren had warned about could be seen on occasion. Most of them looked innocent enough but others had holes in the vegetation that betrayed the dark waters beneath.
In one spot Cero had seen a deer approaching one of these spots. It sharp hooves had pierced the edge until the deer had been knee deep before it began nibbling on the green mat. Cero had an arrow notched with the intention of acquiring some extra food when what he had taken for a log suddenly lashed out and twisted around the startled deer. Himself startled by the sudden movement Cero’s arrow had been released prematurely and buried itself in the giant snake. The python writhed and twisted around the deer before they both sank through the mat leaving a hole not unlike those Cero had seen in the other ponds.
Cero shivered at the idea that a snake could become so large and took extra care to avoid any more of these ponds. Sometimes it was difficult to avoid the ponds and on approach he saw on more than one occasion several serpents undulating towards the far side of the pools. Cero was unable to comprehend the behavior. Once he found a snake sunning itself on a rock. When he was no more than a dozen feet away the snake had suddenly slipped off the rock and slithered away in the opposite direction. Cero assumed that the fearsome creatures that had been described were little more than timid animals that fled the approach of man.
Still not all made sense. There were too many coincidences. Cero recalled how the first the wolves had fled and the hounds had refused to approach. The shadow walkers described a feeling of fear and pain when they had tried to approach. Now the deadly serpents seemed to fear his presence also. Perhaps, he thought to himself, his power was that of defense from dangerous creatures. Not that it mattered much. It did allow Cero to proceed with a degree of confidence and now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall ever having been attacked by an animal. The life of a popper had placed him in many situations where he should have suffered the wrath of angry animals however none had done more than bark.
At the end of the first day Cero had covered miles of the Draeld. Now there was more swamp muck than dry land. The trail often sank into the mud and required him to backtrack and find another dry path. It was getting dark when Cero discovered a small rise that was dry enough to sleep. A tree that had once lived on the rise provided enough tinder for a small fire. Warmed by the fire and munching on a piece of cheese Cero relaxed and started getting drowsy. Sleep was forgotten momentarily when he detected movement out of the corner of his eye.
Cero glanced up and saw one of the shadows standing on the edge of the circle of light that the fire cast. He calmed himself after a moment and the shadow cautiously approached. He was fairly sure that it was Peren checking up on him. This was confirmed when the shadow moved between the fire and a large flat rock. The shadow cast was oddly like the map of the swamp that they had studied the previous evening. It looked like an image of the map as seen through the distortion of moving water but it was recognizable. Cero saw a brighter spot on the map that was somewhere halfway between Skelceri and the southern edge of the Draeld. The river that Cero was heading towards was briefly highlighted before the image disappeared along with the shadow.
From what Cero had been told, Peren must have been at the extremes of his limits in order to maintain the projection. Working in groups the shadow walkers could roam the majority of the Draeld but alone they were far more limited.
When Cero awoke in the morning the swamps were blanketed with a thick fog that restricted vision to only a few feet. He coaxed the embers in the fire back to life and waited for the fog to burn away. Peren had said that it usually didn’t last past noonday during this time of the year. If it had been winter then it was more likely to go weeks without seeing the sun. Peren’s prediction came true after a couple hours and the fog lifted enough to permit travel. A haze obscured everything but the sun’s position in the sky but Cero had enough of his bearings to move out again.
Today Cero had to watch out for the patches of quicksand like mud that would prove a slow inescapable end if encountered. It became increasingly difficult to keep to dry land and in spots the stagnant water was refreshed by sluggish streams. After a few hours of navigating this Cero realized that he had to be nearing one of the tributaries of the river that he was planning on following to the coast. When evening again caught Cero he stood on the banks of a dead stream at its confluence with a wide but shallow sluggish river.
Peren’s warning concerning the dangers of drinking the water were not difficult to heed. The smells of death and decay clung to the water and made breathing the air nauseating. Sleep that night was fitful and interjected with dreams of snakes, muck and putrid water.
Morning was again obscured by fog but now that Cero had found the river there was no need to wait for the fog to lift. With a long stick in hand he was able to find solid ground and on several occasion was able to vault the small tributaries. This practice ended in catastrophe when the pole snapped and dropped Cero in the middle of the stream. He was soaked to the bone by the time he managed to claw his way out of the stinking water. With his clothes wet and his pack weight approximately double he began evaluating the extent of the damage. Most everything was accounted for but the food was in part destroyed. The bread was soggy with the inedible water but the cheese was protected by a layer of hard wax. The dried meat was a loss. There were several pouches of a concoction that the Skelceri villagers made that seemed untouched. It consisted of dried meat ground to a powder with various dried herbs and mixed with oil and grease into a thick past. It had an odd flavor but a small amount of the concoction could take the place of a meal and if properly stored lasted indefinitely. Cero rejoiced on finding that one of its properties was being waterproof.
Wringing the majority of the water out of his pack and clothes Cero tossed a piece of the soggy bread in the river. A large fish of some sort appeared momentarily before swallowing the chunk of bread. Cero on further thought decided to keep the rest of the bread for fishing later. Wrapping the salvaged food back in the oil skin he replaced it in his pack. The wet bread that could be salvaged for fishing was wrapped in an old rag a tied to the outside of the pack. Water still squished inside Cero’s boots before the sole came loose on one and he was reduced to relying on old calluses from previous barefoot summers.
The going was slowed by the larger tributaries that joined the river and required that Cero travel upstream a distance and find a shallow safe spot to ford them. One of these streams was fresh enough that it could almost be classified as clean. Cero took the opportunity to bathe himself of the muck from his prior swim. Feeling refreshed Cero made a couple more miles before the sun sank into the haze that seemed to be perpetual in these parts. His feet were bruised and cut and his skin raw in spots from being chaffed by rough wet clothes.
Before he made camp Cero decided to try his hand at fishing in or
der to supplement his food stocks. It took some experimentation and alterations to an arrow before Cero managed to catch anything. He at last succeeded by carving a notch behind the arrowhead acquiring a barb effect. Twine was attached to the altered arrow and a piece of the ruined bread was tossed on the water a few feet off shore. It took a few tries before Cero perfected his technique enough to shoot the fish as it swallowed the bait. At last hauling the t he retreated from the river to a stand of scrub and brush that hid the light from a small fire. The fish was not enormous but once deboned and gutted it was enough for a modest meal.
Cero’s stomach was content but every other part of him was sore but in the end exhaustion won out and sleep prevailed. It was not a dreamless sleep however. The dream was strangely surreal but real at the same time. There was a small fire with two individuals huddled beside it in familiar rocky terrain. At first Cero couldn’t see the faces but one glanced up and began looking around. It was a youth with black hair but eyes that in the inconsistent light shifted between the color of deep water and the sky just as dusk darkens the blue to near black. Lips moved soundlessly and the other man looked up. Cero was shocked to recognize his father cleanly shaven and dressed in clean well-fitting clothes. Cero’s attention was drawn from the two people one a stranger but familiar at the same time and the other a familiar face in an unfamiliar environment to a glint of light on the man’s lap. A long thin ornately crafted sword with a slight curve along its length flashed with the flickering flames. To Cero’s vision it seemed to flash with a light unrelated to that of the fire. He could feel it resonating with a hidden power. Cero wanted to investigate the mysterious sword further when he felt a distracting pressure building in his mind. Tearing his attention away from the intriguing sword Cero noticed the youth standing with his eyes closed and forefingers pressed to his temples the very image of intense concentration. The blue eyes flashed open and in an instant Cero was sitting upright in his campsite alone.
“Just a dream. It had to be. Urake would never leave the village in the Garoche.” Cero spoke aloud just to hear the sound of his own voice. Laying back down with his head cushioned of the still damp pack Cero tried to return to sleep.
*****
“I swear he was here. I felt him like I can sense you.” Emeck been tending the fire idly with a stick when he had suddenly sat up straight and announced that they were being observed. Urake had looked up at that moment but hadn’t been able to detect any impact on his mental defenses that would indicate someone was trying to observe him. Emeck had stood up at that point and was concentrating on a spot directly to Urake’s left when he further announced that it was Skeln. After a minute of intense concentration he collapsed and declared that Skeln was gone.
“I caught a glimpse through his eyes for a moment before he left. It was like he was just standing there watching us. For some reason he was fixated on Ice Heart. It was glowing the way he saw it. I have never felt anything like it before. He was like, here but not in person and it was like he was just doing it without trying. Like he had no control but when I connected with him he just brushed me off and disappeared.” Emeck rambled about the experience for a minute. Urake knew that Emeck was talented though not on the same level as Brest had been. Emeck’s talents were nothing to scoff at so when Skeln had somehow causally appeared and resisted Emeck’s attempts to communicate, it was odd to say the least.
“Did you get any idea where he is?” Urake waited for Emeck to calm down before he asked.
“Somewhere a long ways south. By a river. That was all I was able to get before he was gone again. It was almost like he was dreaming. I got the distinct impression he didn’t think what he saw was real.” Emeck paused his rant only long enough to convey the location.
Urake began thinking about the implications the information could have. The important piece of information was that Skeln was alive. The rest of the information was puzzling. Trackers could only connect with a mind at a distance. Urake didn’t understand the particulars of how they were able to sense locations once they made the link. Brest had occasionally been able to give detailed descriptions of the target’s surroundings and Emeck could describe major details and give accurate direction and distance. Urake had never heard of people simply projecting their consciousness and observing as if in person without even forming a link. The description of Ice Heart as glowing didn’t make sense either. What Urake did know was that Skeln was unique and that his powers were awakening.
“Should we go tonight?” Emeck’s voice broke into Urake’s contemplation.
“What?” Urake had only registered that there had been a question not what the question was.
“I asked if we should leave tonight.” Emeck already had his pack half full and stood waiting for an answer.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. We can leave in the morning. There is only half of one moon out tonight so there isn’t enough light to travel by.” Urake smiled at Emeck’s enthusiasm. The lad was a natural born tracker and enjoyed the hunt.
“Oh.” The disappointment was clearly evident in that one syllable. Emeck looked up at the moon and squinted at the half circle of light as if willing it to get brighter. Urake shared Emeck’s impatience to get started but had to surrender to the circumstances.
The last few days of searching had been trying their patients. Four days ago Emeck had warned that there were people nearby. A small gully full of brush had obscured them from the eyes of a small company of soldiers who passed by a few minutes later. Urake had to guess that they were either looking for him or for Skeln. Either way it wasn’t good. Brounn had supposedly misdirected the bulk of the searching troops more than a week ago but there were still search parties scouring the wilderness. Something else that was frustrating was that no sign of Skeln had been found whatsoever. Urake felt confident that if he couldn’t find anything it was unlikely that a bunch of soldiers untrained in tracking would have had any better luck.
The next day they had stumbled across the soldiers again but all dead by the same hand as the trackers that Urake had first come across. Last night they had been by the fire when a mysterious shadow had appeared and gazed into the fire for a minute before drifting around the motionless Urake and petrified Emeck. Strangely the apparition had appeared to search the campsite and had left without finding the two of them. Ice Heart had been laying at Urake’s side during the encounter and had drawn the revenant’s attention momentarily before its departure.
Having seen the creature Urake remembered having heard long ago about strange ghosts or revenants that haunted the swamps appearing only at night. He had never heard of these creatures doing anyone harm. When Urake had passed through there hadn’t been any encounters. The locals were of the belief that these apparitions were revenants spirits of the dead lost in the Draeld Swamps. Urake had been unable to find the source of the apparitions and had dismissed it as stories told by superstitious people.
When morning dawned the sun was bright and clear but a fog bank hung over the Draeld Swamps proper to the south. Breakfast was a few cold pieces of roasted snake choked down after the packs were loaded. The information that Emeck had learned about Skeln’s position led Urake to believe that he was at the lower limits of the swamps where the stagnant water drained into one of two rivers. Emeck believed that it was sort of southeast of their position making Urake think that it was the eastern most of these rivers that Skeln had found.
It was a wonder Skeln had managed to make it that far as it was. Urake had traversed the swamps several times in his old life and had learned of safer routes than others but still a watchful eye was needed. One never knew when any manner or monster might appear out of the murky waters. They still faced at least three full days of travel through the dangerous territory.
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t like this one bit.” Torroth smoldered in a poor attempt to disguise his annoyance.
“What? That the east midlands are swarming with soldiers or that they don’t respect yo
u?” Inadar joked lightly.
“What? No no, not that. If they knew who I was then we would be in a lot of trouble. No one deserts the army without a price being put on his head. Preferably without the rest of him in company. Easier to transport that way.” Torroth began mumbling to himself.
“That is always good to know. I’m a Dragon Lord that would be hunted if anyone found out and you are a fugitive on the run. Relax, no one recognized us back there. They were looking for two guys. Not a guy and a girl.” Inadar tried to reassure Torroth.
“If they had been asking more questions we might have been in trouble. As it was they only let us go because the guy that brought us in didn’t really know who he was looking for.” Torroth shot Inadar a scowl.
“Whatever. He wouldn’t have been a problem if he hadn’t had all his friends with him. It really is astonishing who they let in the army these days.” Torroth scowled again and shushed Inadar as they rounded a corner and nearly walked into a whole squad of soldiers.
“Will you be quiet? You never know if one of them is behind a bush emptying his bladder.” Torroth whispered after the soldiers had moved past them hardly sparing a glance in their direction.
“It was informative being to their camp wasn’t it?” Inadar continued the conversation in a conspiratorial whisper that was sure to raise eyebrows if overheard let alone observed.
“How so?” Torroth tried to hold onto his bad mood and feigned boredom however the corners of his mouth had begun twitching ominously towards his usual smile.
“Well for one, we know that they aren’t looking for us. Another thing is that you never have been able to stay upset for long.” Inadar smirked up at Torroth who couldn’t help a little laugh.
“How was the last part informative? I already deduced that they had no idea who we are from the fact we aren’t manacled.” Torroth failed his rebuking scowl and only succeeded in making Inadar laugh.
Chronicles of Den'dra: A Land Torn: Ancient Powers Awaken Page 18
