Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  Now, you might wonder, ‘What practical purpose could that serve?’ Answer, ‘She stood on the flat surface when she flew.’ Yes, when she flew.

  Personally, I just don’t get the flying thing. What’s wrong with keeping your feet on the nice, solid ground?! If my own don’t suit me give me a horse, a mule if necessary, ponshiu, or even a two-legged eulich. U’Lahna? She likes to fly, standing up no less.

  She was gliding slowly through the timberline, her outline camouflaged with a billowing fog for additional cover as she contemplated a wrongness within the forest. Normally she could have located the men, trolls, everything in a matter of minutes. But everything was muddled. At first she wondered if it were her fatigue, but that wasn’t it. No, something else was off, something unnatural.

  Ever since the green star appeared, she had noticed changes in nature. Some were subtle, others were not. This felt similar, but different. It was as if there was a new consciousness, something that was trying to wake up … to be born, maybe? Was this in some way connected to the trolls, or to these trolls in particular?

  In ages past there had been uprisings of non-elf or human species. Strong magical fluctuations were connected to such. Could this be the onset of a troll surgence?

  As depleted as she was, she should have had no problem finding the men. It was as if she were searching through a murk of essence. She would have to find them the old-fashioned way, by line of sight.

  She began a spiral search pattern, keeping in the treetops. Toagun and Lesli were accomplished trackers, they would have little trouble tracing Jha’Ley’s path. But they were counting on her to find an exact location of the prisoners.

  The two-hour connection was not far from expiring and she still hadn’t found her objective when she heard, [Ah find three party of wery pig tro’s, one is y-yhike shaman vith each party. Maype ‘venty mi’y-y-oh from castle …they are marching wery fast …]

  Three parties? Twenty miles, if that was what he said? It was not good.

  Feila was starting to say something by mind-speak when U’Lahna was suddenly distracted, there ... she saw something. She reached out to broadcast, [I have found two trolls, one carries a staff, the other …] she was perplexed, [… the other carries a crossbow. They are moving as if stalking. I will go on to see their quarry. They may be hunting Jha’Ley.]

  About one-half mile further, she found them. The prison camp, I mean. They were bound to wooden posts apart from one another with several guards all about. A couple trolls worked methodically at smoking strips of meat while some others had … had staked out skins of humans and were in process of tanning.

  Everything was primitive looking, not what one would expect of an advanced culture with members controlling refined disciplines of magic. Just around a ridge and in a partial clearing was what she figured to be two warrior encampments. Why so many … just for the men of the castle, or something else? They weren’t very orderly, but what could you expect from … then her stomach revolted.

  She had fought vampires and other undead. U’Lahna had seen some grisly sights, but ogres were simply revolting. She estimated maybe a dozen of the nauseating creatures dispersed around the camp. They were not in any reports. Instantly U’Lahna mind-spoke what she saw with coordinates.

  Feila’s response was laced with off-guard amazement, [Ogres? Here? Working with trolls?] Her next words were obviously aimed elsewhere as they interwove with the mind-speak and faded off, [JéPahn, tell Mahrufael to tell Gordi ………]

  Cautiously weaving through the trees she saw set apart from the rest, as if royalty, a semi-ornate cluster of tents. Feila could almost smell the radiation of Eldohrich Energy; was this where the unnatural emanations were coming from? No.

  U’Lahna had seen enough. She was about to mind-speak to the others, when about a quarter-mile from the prison camp she glided over twelve men one hundred feet below. They were carefully working their way in, apparently to attack the camp.

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked down their back-trail, if only her powers of enhanced perception weren’t being muddled, what was that she saw? As she prepared herself for an interception she sent her report, [I have found Jha’Ley one-quarter mile from the pris---]

  … f-f-fs-s-s-st-t-t … Only her peripheral vision saved her from a streak of purple light. With instant reflexes she banked hard right, even as a burn mark left proof of contact on the left of her face, and a twist of her long black hair sifted free into the wind.

  Into a barrel-roll she quickly changed course, now pouring on the speed as glints of crystal-like particles covered her body. She saw one troll flying a Y-shaped stick and prepared to engage, but another of those purple flashes streaked her way, even as she saw from the source another flying troll appearing from near invisibility. As she tilted to evade another purple flash, yet another came her way.

  Veering one direction, then rolling another she managed to evade and sent a mass of ice daggers their way, killing two, but U’Lahna was in no shape to make battle. Too late she realized they were hunting her in wolf-pack fashion. They were coordinated …

  From behind she was blasted with a … z-z-z-zh-h-h-hct-t-t-t … of orange lightning, shattering her crystal armor into so many pieces as she was knocked from her perch. Freefalling toward the ground one hundred and forty feet below … one of them ran into her, knocking her rolling through the air in a different angle. Another, or perhaps the same one, aimed to hit her again, but from his behind the now-rounded spear ran him through and to U’Lahna’s hand. With an under-tuck flip while in a banking roll, she reclaimed her perch as N’Sehlien flattened out again.

  They knew, they had known, but how … a question to be dwelled upon later. The chase was on as U’Lahna used all her skill, crouching low as an ice skier racing down the slopes of Mar’Quett, weaving in between trees, diving low like a falcon then swooping up. She executed barrel-rolls here, banking and loops there, constantly evading those shots of purple light and more.

  One shot she evaded hit a tree and it combusted, then another began to rot. Remembering what she had seen while scouting, she suddenly turned and dove into a ravine. Rounding a steep corner she angled up in a seemingly impossible angle as two pursuers ran straight into a snow-covered piece of jagged rock.

  Performing a slingshot maneuver around one slim tree, she drove straight for one troll, who began to smile, then she jumped up, curled her legs and hurtled over his head as the widened spear ran through his body, touching her feet back to perch as both cleared the mark.

  U’Lahna was running out of steam, there were just too many, and the mind-speak duration must have run out. Suddenly stopping dead, two pursuers flew by as she formed an ice ball and hurled it at the next. It smashed him center of face and he fell, only to be impaled upon a jagged branch below.

  The two circled back as she spun like a tornado and caught one in the jaw with N’Sehlien’s butt-end, followed with a side pivot that sliced through his body with the blade. Executing a combination barrel-and-back roll she impaled the other. Then a bolt of unseen force knocked her flying from her perch … hitting the ground at a slanting angle and sliding over fifty feet.

  She was slow to get to her knees with searing pain in her side, a cut across her forehead, and when she spat upon the white snow there was blood. As she looked up there were five trolls grinning at her, two had staves, all were raising hands up to her.

  U’Lahna was tired, hurt, of ill disposition … now she was mad.

  Tendrils of green smoke and a blackish energy began to glow from within her … then emerald lightning erupted across the sky …

  Chapter 67

  MOVING WITH EXTREME skill of stealth, Dessi made it to where he and Seedle were holed up. Seedle was sitting against a tree, his staff had been rigged with a slim, leather sling and was leaning against the same tree just to the other side. One knee was curled up, his elbow on knee, forehead in hand, his face white with fatigue.

  “You alright, Seed?”

  “Ye
s, just all-in.”

  “We are pushing mighty hard for someone who has lost so much blood and has not yet recovered.”

  Dessi looked over to the busted flying-stick, “I would have thought you would do better holding a stick between your legs.”

  Seedle looked over wryly and handed Dessi a water skin, “Very funny … hah … hah … hah. I got us this far. What did you learn?”

  “Well … that is definitely a prisoner camp up through there,” he pointed, “about a half-mile. I got up close enough to talk with one of the boys …”

  Dessi explained all he learned about the fight at the castle. Then Seedle asked, “What do you think we can do?”

  “I do not know. With the right distraction, we might could make a play to cut them loose and then run for it, but we are about five and a half, maybe six miles from the old settlement.”

  “Dee … I have been thinking … I am wondering if our being at the castle is incidental.”

  Dessi gave him a look.

  “I am wondering if they were, or are after something else, and we just happened to get in the way. You know … they expected the place to be empty?”

  Dessi was chewing on a twig, “That … is a good thought. Maybe they thought, ‘Hey, cows and chickens waiting for us to slaughter.’”

  “You really think they eat people?”

  Dessi rolled his head over and asked, “That is what my grandfather says, and he would know.”

  Seedle rested his head back on the tree and breathed hard. Dessi offered, “You look as if you are with fever. If you are not careful, you are going to get sick before we get to do any good. Let us rest, you drink up on that water, and we will see what we can do.”

  It was late the next morning when Dessi and Seedle, fully garbed in their troll garments, got close to the prison camp. They were watching everything carefully when ten more men were carried in, ankles and wrists bound and draped from poles like deer or boar. Three were dead, seven had their ankle bonds cut and were led to posts and tethered. The dead men were drug to stretch poles and nails tamped through wrists and ankles.

  Seedle was ready to run in, Dessi grabbed him and through grit of teeth hissed, “Damn it, there is nothing we can do …”

  In futile anguish they saw men they knew gutted, skinned, then filleted. Seedle gnashed his teeth, “Sons of mother humping---”

  Both men jumped as green lightning pierced the sky, punctuated by deafening thunder they felt deep in their belly. The smell of ozone was overwhelming and the hair on their arms rose. For an instant they froze as they stared at each other with unvoiced questions. Then a low, dull, deep-pitched horn sounded and the trolls all began to run from the camp in the same direction.

  One troll almost stumbled upon them. They were wearing the hoods of their clothing and all three were startled. It saw the staff in Seedle’s hand and took a reverent step back, but just stood there.

  Seizing the moment, Dessi suddenly began barking furiously, “Braw-wWAw-wra-wa-wraw!”

  The troll opened its eyes wide in astonishment and looked to Seedle, who said, “Grr-RROw-wr-wr …” and pointed with the staff in the direction the others were running.

  The troll looked confused, but turned and ran.

  Seedle and Dessi turned to each other and looked surprised, then gave each other a high-five-hand-slap and ran to slice bonds.

  Seedle asked on the run, “What did you say?”

  “I do not know, but I meant his mother was better looking …”

  When U’Lahna sent her mind-speak message of ogres, the bulk of the rescue force was only two miles away from the prison camp. Gordi and Mahrufael had already taken a different direction.

  Just as Feila instructed JéPahn to pass news to Mahrufael, Lesli came to her and reported, “I know why the trolls can see everything, they have a scrying eye, or divining laver, or something to that effect. They might even have a crystal ball.”

  Feila was incredulous, “Trolls?”

  Lesli’s hands were up, “Hel-l-lo-o … not my job to discern, but to seek, find and report. I can taste this jewel. My father specialized in using these things.”

  “You’re right. Can you do anything about it from here? Can you trace it, or find it?”

  Lesli was smug, “Don’t all trees have bark?”

  Fhascully was irritated and heard the exchange, “Actually, they do not.”

  Lesli shot him a heated glance, “What would you know?”

  Feila cut the exchange, “Can you neutralize it from this far?”

  “I absorb anything that can reach me, I’m already eating.”

  Feila called out, “Let’s stay centered on Lesli until time to split. Lesli, when we split …” she looked around to make sure her references heard her, “… JéPahn … you, Skirret and Gus hunt down the device and deal with it.”

  It was then U’Lahna sent her finding of Jha’Ley. Feila looked at Albri with optimism and called out, “She found the commodore … let’s move double-time!”

  The team was almost at sight of the prison camp, but Gordi and Mahrufael had just found one of the warrior camps. The duo was planning their move when the green lightning crossed the sky.

  About forty human-sized trolls thronged into camp center to stare up at the effect, some seemed to feel pain at the static in the air.

  Gordi drew his stick like a sword and said, “It’s started … let’s kick some ass!”

  He took a running start, stepped upon a rock mound, and leaped forward over the startled heads of several trolls in the extended manner of a great cat. Gordi was yelling, “Ye-e-ea-a-a-ah-h-h-h …” as he touched the ground on his hands sixty feet away, rolled, then went up in the air two feet, doing a spiral while spinning the stick over and around his hand. The stick lengthened as he did so until it was just short of six feet in length and humming with power.

  As Gordi landed he smashed one troll in the mouth, a small blurred wave effect radiating on impact, shattering the troll’s face. He immediately followed up with a strike to another troll’s knee with the same effect, the brute’s leg destroyed. Under-hooking a third behind the knee, Gordi flipped his mark 540˚ to land hard on head, then splat on belly to the ground. With continuing motion the man knelt and brought the staff down across neck, that same humming and wave effect manifesting at all times

  With loud voice and a sneering grin Gordi challenged, “Come get it boys.”

  Mahrufael hesitated not a moment as he drew sword and dagger, took a fighting stance and incanted the words, »Aesomastae!« In both weapons a pulse of golden light ran from guard to point, then eradiated the blades so a bright white glow emanated from center with a golden tinge all around the edges. Brandishing his weapons, the elf disappeared with an imploding flash of blue light.

  The trolls were already responding to Gordi’s attack and were bringing club and machete-like weapons to bear. In the midst of four trolls, Mahrufael appeared with a flash and swung his sword in a wide arc, a sound like a note blown from a wooden flute sounding with the swing as all four torsos were cleanly sliced. With same motion, Mahrufael’s dagger found home through the fourth’s side and into his heart, then the blue flash of light appeared again …

  … as Mahrufael appeared next to a troll about to throw a javelin at Gordi. The javelin was sliced through just in back of the throwing hand, severing hand as well as weapon, as the elf knelt with a left spinning motion to his right knee, filleting the troll’s thigh at an upward angle with dagger as he thrust the torso with sword and disappeared with a flash again …

  … appearing between two charging trolls, attacking them with blades a whirling. A total of five times he appeared in a flash of light to attack and disappear again, each point within twenty to fifty feet of each other, taking out ten trolls within a matter of ten seconds.

  Not more than one hundred rods away through the forest, Lesli and her quartet found their goal … amid tents with three trolls dressed in better-than-warrior garb staring with concern at the
sky.

  She instructed her companions, “Wait here …”

  Skirret called in a hushed voice as he put arm out to stop Gus from chasing after her, “Wait, we are a team …” She did not look back as she dashed into the midst of the tents yelling, “Look at me!”

  The first troll glanced to her, then turned with mouth open. She still contained the remains of consumed energy from the scrying emanations. Focusing it all at the one target she pressed her palm at him and released … a mottled red bolt of energy pulsed forward and caused the troll to explode in so much flesh and bone.

  Trolls two and three turned on her, one of them yelling in frenzied bark-talk. Both raised hand and began hurling effects upon her, but the effects never completed as they pummeled her body, seeming to soak into her like a sponge.

  Lesli kneeled as if in pain, then others came from their tents and joined in pelting her with a barrage of magic. She took the effects and reeled, one after another, but never quite going down as the troll wizards became intent on her destruction. A horn sounded and three broke off and ran away, perhaps in response to the horn. One of them, the furthest one back, ducking first into a tent …

  Skirret still held Gus at arms length, then they heard noise in the woods, big noise and turned with their crossbows. JéPahn, however was intent on and concerned with Lesli. Reaching out, he touched her mind. She was not in pain, she was feigning.

  JéPahn felt her desire grow as she was hit with effect after effect. She had never felt anything like it before … she was lusting … he felt her suddenly turn to them as she became overwhelmed at the ecstasy, the sweet taste of raw power.

  Lesli’s mind became open to JéPahn and she didn’t care. Her flesh began to radiate like a small red sun and her clothing began to burn away, her hair smoldering like fire as to the troll’s vexation she began to lift slowly from the ground by one mark, two marks …