by Mark Hockley
THE FORK IN THE ROAD
Tom made his way slowly through the rough undergrowth, scanning the forest for a sign of Jack.
White Wolf, white death, he thought fleetingly, though he did not know why these words should trouble him now. Show yourself, Jack. I need you! Please come back and be your old self again.
Above him the sky, subtly, was beginning to darken. Tom was sure that it had not been very long since night had last come. But could he really be certain?
A little way ahead there was a muffled sound, as if someone were trying to cry out and hearing this, Tom quickened his pace, heedless of a cluster of prickles that stung his legs. Suddenly as he passed beneath a mass of low hanging branches, a terrible scene appeared before him.
He saw the tall figure of Dredger looming over the cowering form of a boy and in the warrior's hand a gleaming blade was poised to strike.
“Jack!” Tom realised at once as he screamed the name, the fear and horror of the sound puncturing the tranquillity of the forest. With a swift glance, hesitation momentarily passing across his dark features, Dredger glared at him, violence in the man's eyes. "No!" Tom shouted and Jack joined the plea flinching away, begging for some show of mercy from the warrior.
The blade wavered above Jack's head for a moment and then, with an expression that
neither boy could read, Dredger slowly lowered his hand, his fingers clenched white
around the weapon's haft. "You should not interfere," he breathed, still looking hard at the boy huddled at his feet.
Paying no heed and moving closer, Tom gazed down at his friend and saw that Jack was obviously in a state of shock, his eyes wide and confused, his face ashen. "Jack, are you all right?" he offered gently.
"I...I think so," muttered the other boy, looking around as if he were emerging from a bad dream. But before Tom could question him further, the sound of something approaching made all three turn to see Mo come into view, his large body appearing from out of a deep thicket to their right.
"So he is found," the badger said, noting the expressions on each of their faces.
"Is he going to be all right?" Tom asked, beckoning Mo forward.
"Let me see." The badger sniffed the air, occasionally nudging Jack with his large black nose. "How do you feel, Jack?"
The boy rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "Like I've been hit over the head with a plank of wood."
"Can you stand?" Mo enquired.
Jack felt his body in an apparent attempt to locate any broken bones. "I think so,” he said and with a hand from Tom he got up onto his feet. "What happened?" he finished.
"Don't you remember?" protested Tom but Jack just shook his head, staring blankly at his friend, then at the badger.
"No I can't remember a thing after we reached the cottage."
Dredger smiled tightly. "A poor memory can be a convenient thing."
Tom turned and scowled angrily at the man. "So what were you going to do with your
knife when I found you, Dredger?" he demanded savagely.
The tall man still held the weapon in his hand and with a thin smile he now replaced it in its sheath. "Why," he answered with a casual air, "protect the boy of course."
Tom glanced briefly at Mo who remained silent, watching them both carefully. "Protect him from what!?" the boy asked in disbelief.
"There are many things that stalk the forest, many evils that lie in wait." Dredger paused and found Jack with his gaze. "And they come in many shapes and forms. They come in many guises."
"All is well now," interrupted the badger. "And for that we should all be thankful. I suggest that we go back to the cottage for there is food to be had there, and we must provide ourselves with whatever is necessary for the long journey ahead. Now that the place stands empty," he added softly, "we must take rather than receive."
"The darkness is almost here again," Jack said distantly.
Tom nodded. "No day, no night and no time. Everything is jumbled up.”
"Not so, Tom," Mo countered swiftly, "All things abide by the will of the Beast and only change at its whim. Never forget that The Wolf is master of these lands."
Turning away, Mo started back toward the cottage. The two boys followed him readily, Tom relieved by the return of his friend, but perplexed and worried by the episodes leading up to Jack's outburst. Dredger however, did not follow immediately, pausing to watch the others go.
"I smell you here," he growled through clenched teeth. "Heartless one...bright one." He spat on the ground venomously and with one last look around the area he moved off,
taking great strides in pursuit of his companions.
A sense of oppression permeated the small dwelling and Mo felt it bite into his very heart.
Tom experienced it too, like a cleaving, living thing. The sight of the man, his wife's head somehow having been horribly transplanted onto his dead body, hanging like a rag doll from the tree, was by far the most terrible thing he had ever seen. His mind reeled at the memory. How could the Wolf be so cruel? What kind of mind could conceive of such a hideous thing? If Tom had ever doubted that true evil actually existed, he knew now that it was all too real.
But at least Jack is all right now.
There had been a moment back there, when he had begun to believe he might lose his friend and that had scared him very badly. He brutally pushed this thought away, unable to face the emotions that churned inside him.
"We must take all the food that we can find," Mo said, looking grimly around the room.
"It seems so cold-hearted," commented Tom with an uneasy look at the badger.
At that moment, Dredger entered the room. "They have no further need of the provisions," he remarked.
Tom glared at him in disgust. "Sometimes," he hissed, "you really make me sick!"
With a slight smile, the warrior sat down on a hard wooden stool and just looked steadily back at the boy.
"The larder is well stocked," reported Mo, appearing at the doorway to one of the other rooms. "There will be enough to sustain us for a great distance. And there are also two rucksacks which we can put to good use." He paused, looking over at Tom. "It’s what they would have wanted."
Saying no more, the four of them gathered the provisions together, emptying the larder. Jack in particular went about the task with dedicated enthusiasm.
When they had filled the rucksacks until they bulged heavily, Dredger took one up onto his broad shoulders with little effort. "I will carry this," he announced, "and with your agreement, I will take it with me on my own journey, which very soon must take me on a different path than your own."
"Of course," approved Mo.
"And I'll carry the other one," voiced Jack, grabbing hold of the bulky pack.
Dredger smiled broadly but without humour. "Yes, that is fitting. He will make a good mule!"
Jack didn't seem to take any offence at this and quite happily hoisted it up onto his back, appearing to be ready to go wherever he was led.
"Very well," the badger declared, "we have remained here long enough. Let us now walk the road of bitter dream, where nothing and no-one are what they seem. The verse is best remembered by all. Many things that were in darkness are now coming to light."
He cast a look around the room, noting the expression on each face. Tom's pale and frightened, yet strangely resolute. Dredger, grim and purposeful, sure of his skill in battle, ready to fight to the death. And Jack.
Mo gazed at the boy as Jack scurried about, so keen to be of assistance. What had possessed him when he had raved about the map being his own? It was odd indeed that he had recovered so suddenly. The badger knew that he would have to watch Jack very carefully from now on.
They left the cottage and passed out into the gloom.
"I feel a bit sleepy," mumbled Jack to no-one in particular.
"We must travel on," stated Mo. "I think that perhaps the darkness has been sent merely to discourage us, to persuade us to delay o
ur journey. The Wolf enjoys the discomfort that we all share whilst we remain in this place.”
"We will not be deterred," reinforced Dredger, nodding his head solemnly.
"I still can't understand it though," Tom mentioned. "It seems such a short time ago when we rested. Wasn't that during the night?"
"Night is day and day is night," sang the badger. "In the land of half dreams it suits the Wolf for you to sleep."
Tom considered this for a moment and came to realise that time here never seemed to pass either quickly or slowly, or in fact ever really matter to them at all. It was just as Mo had said, time did not exist, at least in the way he understood it. "I always seem to feel tired even when I've only just slept," he grumbled and yawned as if to demonstrate his grievance.
They went on in a brooding silence. The badger had his own thoughts, his doubts and his hopes. While Tom recalled his Uncle Ira and began to understand many of the strange things he had been told, which until now had always sounded so bizarre and mysterious.
Jack however did not have any thoughts at all. He was like a boy who was sleepwalking. He only wanted to be told what he should do. And there was only one person who could tell him. He knew he must be patient until she came to him again.
And Dredger, now renewed with a sense of destiny and purpose, knew where he must
go and what was expected of him when he arrived at his destination. He was also aware of how much depended on him.
To fail was to condemn them all to a hell unimaginable.
With time seeming to stand still and darkness settling deep around them, the party of four travelled on for many miles. There were no stars and no moon to light their path and yet the chasm of night was aglow nonetheless, for a spectral light of uncertain origin filtered through the trees, lending the landscape a yellowed, anaemic aspect.
Dredger had kept himself apart from the others as they went, apparently preoccupied by some private debate. So when he approached Tom, falling in beside him and matching him stride for stride, the boy was somewhat alarmed and glanced up at the warrior nervously.
The man gazed down upon him with a frightening intensity, his eyes yellow in the eerie radiance. "You offered me the opportunity to examine the map again," he said bluntly. "Does it still stand?"
Tom met the big man's regard and wondered if he would ever come to like him. He doubted it somehow, but at the same time realised that whatever it was that Dredger had to do, it was important and therefore any help he could give the man should be granted without question. "The map is yours to look at any time you like," he answered coolly.
With a shrewd gleam in his eyes, Dredger smiled. "I understand you better than you think, and I know you will do whatever you have to do." It seemed he was content to leave the conversation at that, but as he was about to fall back and walk with the badger, he added, "I will look upon the map when the light returns. My path will take me from you soon."
Jack, who walked just behind Tom, listened to this carefully and was jubilant, although his expression remained neutral.
She will be pleased. And I so much want her to be pleased.
Completely unaware of his friends thoughts, Tom marched on now at the head of the company, feeling like the leader of an expedition trekking into some uncharted region, in search of a great and wonderful treasure. In a way it was almost ironic. When he had been just a little younger he had often played games that were much like this, only now, incredibly, he was actually living one.
His thoughts turned to Lisa, who came to him in his dreams. Who was she really? And what did it all mean? He knew beyond question that he would meet her somewhere, sometime soon, but it was becoming more and more difficult to tell when he was dreaming and when he was actually awake. Was she real? He wanted to believe that she was. The way he felt about her was almost magical, like a dream itself. He smiled to himself at that notion. Was all of this really no more than a strange dream? No, he reminded himself quickly, this was real and so was Lisa. He imagined her face, her
pretty eyes regarding him fondly and experienced emotions that were foreign to him, a deeply felt longing for some unobtainable thing that he barely understood. Can dreams really come true?
He looked over his shoulder at Jack and saw his friend lumbering along just behind him. "Jack!" he said with an easy grin.
"What can I do for you?"
"How's it feel to be part of an adventure?"
Jack scratched his head, feigning deep thought. "Well," he said eventually, "it beats doing the washing up!"
Laughing, Tom moved beside his friend. "I'm glad you're all right now," he told him, his sense of relief obvious.
Jack nodded, glancing away. "So am I."
"Now, let's just get on with what we have to do," urged Tom, "and beat the hell out of that White Wolf!"
The other boy grinned, rather too fiercely. "Yeah, let's hunt it down and spill its guts!"
Tom smiled, but it occurred to him that this was not really the sort of thing he would have expected to hear from Jack. But after all that had happened, he supposed they had to expect to see changes in their attitudes and behaviour.
Within his own tired, bewildered mind, Jack considered the other boy as they continued to travel.
Who are you Tom? Who are you and why do I hate you so much? It's not that I want to hurt you. It's just that you're getting far too big for your boots and you've got
something of mine. His face contorted with the pain of his thoughts. I really don't want to hurt you. But I must do what I am told.
"When we reach the fork in the road, I must part from you," indicated Dredger as they marched over a low hillock. A straight, stone road awaited them on the other side, stretching away into the distance. The warrior knew that his journey must take him far to the west, for with Tom's permission he had consulted the map when it became apparent that the day would not swiftly return.
The darkness remained vigilant, the surrounding woods beset by shadows cast by the anomalous illumination that accompanied the night and baffled by this strange phenomenon, Tom found himself voicing a question. "What causes that glow?"
"Phantom stars perhaps," answered Mo dryly, "or the playful heart of the Wolf.”
"And what about Dredger?" Tom continued, his inquisitive mind moving quickly from one subject to another, "what is waiting for him out there?"
"The Second Beast," stated the badger. "Many are the theories as to what it might be, as to its significance. For myself, I am still uncertain, though I have given it much thought through the years."
"I too have wondered," Dredger said joining the conversation, having been listening attentively as they walked the road. "But I know this. The Second Beast is a part of the prophecies, a part of the trials that we each must face. And I know where my destiny must take me. Into Hydan where the hooded foe awaits."
"And I shall pray that you do not fail your test," the badger pledged, "as I pray we do not fail our own." For a few moments there was silence between them, the gravity of what faced them oppressive.
"But what has all of this got to do with the Wolf? That's what I don't understand," Tom spoke up. He found the whole concept of another beast very confusing.
With a mild chuckle, Dredger swept back his long hair from his face. "Everything native to this world is a part of the Beast, the true Beast. It is the father of all evil here.”
"Your words are certainly true," agreed Mo, "and it is best remembered that evil is often more complex that it might first appear. The beguiling darkness serenades us with sweet melodies of ambition. The righteous must take care lest they fall under the spell of the charming beast."
Dredger looked down at the animal, his eyes glassy. "I trust you have noted the incident with the boy…Jack."
"Indeed," the old badger replied.
"Watch him at all times. Shadows are moving within him. Perhaps it would have been better if Tom had not come upon me in the forest when he did."
Mo did not answer
and although Tom was sorely tempted to argue the point, he chose to let the matter rest, knowing that no good could come of further confrontation. The warrior was naturally cautious, he understood and his reluctance to accept Jack's recovery was to be expected. As for the incident in the forest, Tom preferred to put it behind him. It scared him too badly to consider what he might have discovered if he had arrived a few minutes later.
"There are parts to be played by all of us," Mo uttered, but the warrior had said his piece and strode on, quickening his pace.
Quite suddenly the light returned and Tom almost stopped in his tracks, his eyes struggling to adjust, but Dredger from a little way ahead called back to him. "Puerile tricks to cloud our minds."
Their progress on the roadway was much swifter than had been the case on the open terrain. The high branches of many lofty trees dominated either side of the extensive lane and amongst the boughs several signposts had been erected. Beneath one such sign they paused and Tom studied the map once more at the warrior's request. While they did so, Jack stood a few feet apart and watched them with a sullen expression.
"A bit further ahead, just beyond The Forest of Syndrian there’s a fork in the road," Tom related.
"I must take the westerly path and you the easterly," Dredger stated.
"So we say farewell," the badger said.
Dredger nodded shortly. "You have not far to travel before you will reach Gelaré Mound. The Wastes lie upon the other side. It will be a time of great testing."
"Then let’s just get on with it and do what we’ve got to do." It was Tom's voice that interrupted, a little shaky but nonetheless determined.
Is it really my job to save the world? The idea seemed ridiculous. How could he do anything? He was not a warrior like Dredger.
A thunderous voice made him start. "Now," cried Dredger, clapping his big hands together. "Let us march into the demon's snare!"
They moved on, now at a cross-roads in their journey and Tom felt certain that once Dredger had left them, they would be far more vulnerable. What if the Wolf came then? With this thought turning inside his head, he saw in the distance that the road began to change, the grey stone appearing to widen and as they drew nearer, it soon became apparent that this was indeed the choice of paths that Dredger had alluded to. The road split in two, branching off in opposite directions.
They stood at the threshold of the two separate roads, one leading into the east, the other into the west where the desert prevailed.
"Ah, to find the end of this," whispered Dredger.
"We wish you well," Mo told him with sincerity.
"And I shall be in need of your good wishes," answered the man as he gazed out along the ashen road, "they are the hope of worlds."
The sky was bright and clear, a gentle breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees. The grass, faded so as to be almost colourless in places, moved restlessly at the edges of the stone highway.
"Goodbye," said Tom solemnly.
With a smile, one that was warm and sincere, Dredger extended his hand. "Farewell, Tom, for now."
Shaking the man's hand, Tom was moved fleetingly by the sheer eccentricity of the recent events which had led to this parting. He wondered not for the first time if he had gone completely mad. But he was quick to dismiss this idea as mere foolishness. He had to keep a tight grip on himself from now on. There was far too much at stake and whether he accepted it or not, what he had always thought of as madness had become reality.
"And farewell to you, old one," Dredger said to the badger, "protect and guide these younglings. They have need of you."
Jack remained silent as these sentiments were exchanged, a coldness gripping him. He knew what he had to do, but even the thought of it made him feel sick inside. Hesitantly, he moved forward. "And I wish you the best of luck too," he offered as enthusiastically as he could manage.
The warrior regarded him with a long, probing stare. "I am not in need of luck. But I thank you all the same."
Mo looked up at the tall figure. “We will look for you on our journey."
Dredger turned to Tom. "Keep the map safe," he said with emphasis.
Patting his shirt where the parchment was concealed, Tom nodded. When the warrior had looked at it, not long before, he had found himself eager for it's return and had been almost relieved when the man had at last given it back to him. It disturbed him that he should have reacted in this way, but he put these thoughts aside for the moment.
"Now I must go," Dredger said at length and with the rucksack slung across his back, he moved off along the road that branched to the right. Tom, Jack and Mo watched him without speaking, but the warrior did not look back. Eventually the road turned away to the west and the man's dark form was lost from sight.
"Now we must be on our way," Mo told them after a few seconds.
"When can we rest?" whined Jack, rubbing his head as if he were in pain.
The badger did not look at him. "When it is needed.”
"He's right Jack," said Tom with some sympathy, "we have to keep moving."
The other boy tried not to look too disgusted at this, but disgust was what he felt.
Who do you think you are, Tom? My lord and master? Well, you'll soon see who's really in charge. Just wait until She comes. Just wait and see! Jack's mind bristled with images of what She would do and how much She would love him for being so good. But he kept these thoughts to himself, closely guarded within his bitter heart.
As they began to walk again, Tom decided he would ask Mo a bit more about their destination. So far he had been told very little and didn't want to be left in the dark any longer. "What exactly is this land of snow and ice we're heading for?" he asked bluntly, making sure his discontent was conveyed and he won a sidelong glance from the old badger.
"Well, Tom, it is an unusual place, that much I can tell you."
With a sigh that bordered on exasperation, Tom stared up at the sky for a moment, framing another question in his mind. But then, realising that he would get no more from the animal than Mo was willing to reveal, he looked back over his shoulder to where Jack came dawdling behind them. "I must admit that I'm feeling tired myself," he confessed. "It's this place. It's almost as if we were being drugged or something."
"That’s not so far from the truth," Mo replied. "The Wolf is always around us. It rides the winds, it is one with the earth. Its influence is everywhere."
"Why is it so bad?" asked Tom, knowing it was a childish question.
"The wolf, the wolf, the big bad wolf," the badger chanted in a low voice. "Why is it so? You might just as well ask why is the grass green? Why is the sea blue?"
"But they’re not," countered Tom, "that's just what people say. Things are never exactly one colour."
The badger smiled. "You’re growing up, Tom," he said, "and you are learning fast. But what about white? Are things ever truly white?" The boy frowned, wondering. "And what about black?" the badger continued, with a blink of his large brown eyes. "Black and white. Are things ever really black and white?"
Tom nodded in agreement, even though he wasn't entirely sure of what point Mo was making and he looked affectionately at the animal as they travelled further along the undeviating road of stone. "Black and white," he pondered, eyeing the badger's sleek fur as it rippled in the light wind.
Just like you, Mo.
