The sibling captains would be left behind to defend and maintain the ships. Six hundred sailors and a hundred soldiers were under their disposal, leaving eight hundred to scramble the mountains with Eudon. Perhaps the most important soldiers were the griffin riders. There was otherwise no easy way to explore large swaths of land human feet could never reach without wasting prana and lives. The group of eight hundred were to be split into three clusters led by Eudon, Lieutenant Nedica, and Captain Quince. Separating the triad by a mile or two should allow for more ground to be covered and prevent hundreds of soldiers from pressing up against each other on the narrow trails.
After the worst of the snowstorm passed southward, Eudon’s group took the reins of our small army of rented horses and rode east. We pushed the animals hard so we could trade for new ones at the first checkpoint half a day’s ride away. Casters ahead of the main assemblage heaved the thicker tracts of snow off the road, making for a smoother ride than it otherwise would have been. Since not enough horses could replace the tired ones, Eudon’s personal unit—consisting of the pirates, my group, and the lieutenant’s men—was given priority.
We made good time once the snowstorm moved on completely. Everything became such a blur while on the horse that I didn’t even notice something missing from the land we crossed until Aranath mentioned it. Almost no trees grew anywhere. And it wasn’t as if they couldn’t grow on these lands, for an occasional band of spruce trees and birches clinging to life in the margins of the expanse proved they did. No, most had to have been cut down at some point. Everyone used wood, of course, but this barrenness must have come about due to the constant infighting in the region. The internal strife likewise hindered any kind of unified organization that could systemize the practice. It wasn’t until two days of riding did bigger trees encroach nearer the roads and villages.
There was no time to talk about the poor conditions of the woods or Uthosis in general during the ride. Even in the few hours we rested we had to use to sleep, eat, and complete other necessary bodily functions. The first mountains came into view as the days cleared up. Their ever increasing expansion into the heavens and horizon imparted an excited nervousness into me. Something that had been buried deep inside me knew we were getting close.
I identified the cradle of this animated sensation to lie within the sphere of holy prana imprisoning my still roiling corruption. If I had half a mind to, I felt as though I had the ability to reach down and take the corruption’s flogging tendrils to pull it back out onto my soul’s surface. I had to remind myself what such an act would do to me and, more importantly, to those around me.
The horses were slowed considerably after passing the last major mining town. Snow wasn’t the major obstacle, but the steep, gravelly ground itself. This at least gave time for the others in our party to catch up over the next couple of days. Though our horses had to be left behind soon, about a fourth of those behind us had to still take care of the beasts of burden carrying the bulk of our food. Captain Quince stayed in charge of these provisions and the bulk of the men. The lieutenant’s group came out in front to survey the land while Eudon’s unit stayed in the middle.
A very specific part of my body was happy to get off the horses and start walking off its tenderness. Ghevont, whose riding experience rivaled my own, also appreciated using his own legs. Clarissa, on the other hand, was sad to see the horses go. According to the vampire, the blood of the hardy brown mare she last rode tasted quite good. She went as far as filling my gift with the appetizing sap. Her predicament came during the nights when she couldn’t work to keep the blood from freezing, so she often gave her pouch of vials to the scholar so he could keep it warm with body heat or spell.
Speaking of the cold, the higher elevations we climbed forced temperatures to drop further. The difference to me and the cold-bodied Clarissa remained minimal, but many of the soldiers were not accustomed to such temperature ranges back home, making the shift to traveling on foot more exhausting and uncomfortable than anything they experienced in Alslana’s environment. Indeed, winter had ended weeks ago for people leaving near the equatorial latitudes. Meanwhile, our latitudes had another couple of months to go.
Fire spells helped, but they wasted priceless prana, which cut into one’s physical endurance after an hour of holding a strong flame. The lack of trees made burning large fires difficult when the groups stopped to rest, so the best pyromancers were placed in charge of warming up their huddled comrades during the coldest periods. They took turns while another pyromancer regained their strength with rest. When winds blew at their fiercest, then casters adept in air would do their best to redirect the gusts from the perimeter.
Those in my group fared better when it came to opposing the below freezing conditions. Warming one’s hands with a pair of my burned dragon stones braced the blood for a good half hour, and torching a pile of my stones generated such a palpitating furnace that it made those standing nearby prefer the company of ice. Being able to produce such efficacious flames at my age made the soldiers understand a little more why I had been given authority over them, though I doubted they came any closer to being pleased by the notion.
Mountain weather might have been the most encompassing plight, but it was by no means the hardest hitting trouble in the Vyalts. Trolls loved abandoned mines, and the bigger the mines, the bigger the trolls. Not to mention there was always the chance loose fiends roamed somewhere in the range. On top of that, we could stumble upon a slumbering stone sprite, who had the power to create massive rock slides if the individual chose to defend itself in such a way. The handful of wild dragons in Orda mostly inhabited mountain ranges, though Ghevont read no reliable account that mentioned one living in the Vyalts.
While few remained well preserved, if they had ever been, the first hundred and fifty miles into the Vyalts provided plenty of paths to take. The ones chosen won out due to their eastward direction and ease of access. We managed to cross thirty miles a day when on better trails going downhill. Of course, most mountain paths were shitty and went uphill, forcing a pace baby turtles snickered at.
Sometimes the wind howling between the summits did sound like laughter. Sometimes the uproar sounded strange enough to get me to closely observe the peaks for a few moments. This was when I caught far-flung glimpses of dark brown clouds that weren’t clouds at all, but plumes of volcanic ash and dust emitting from the first volcano of the Vyalts. Unfortunately, our plan involved getting a little closer to this volcano.
Roughly halfway to Dulcet lied Brumbuth Valley. According to Ghevont’s freshly acquired knowledge, the valley had been an oasis of deciduous forest and crystal clear lakes as recently as a century ago. However, half a volcano exploding changed that. Only the northwestern tip of the fifty mile long valley was spared the expulsion of ash, fire, and toxic gases.
From a cliff we spotted the one hundred square miles of still standing adult trees and a sprinkling of juvenile saplings spreading toward the southeast. Ghevont expressed his surprise at how well the valley was recovering, and that didn’t take into account how much the snow hid the shrubs and grasses. More than the lost greenery and poisoned fish, the eruption buried a few small villages that had been populated during the spring and summer months to mine mountains, flora, and fauna. Now we intended to use their old paths to reach the last manmade trails on the western section of the Vyalts. It was also going to be nice to reach lower ground, mildly higher temperatures, and less winds.
When a fidgety mood struck me, which was often, I liked going up to the lieutenant’s group to watch them work. Turell, in particular, was a good scout in the air, but a great tracker on the ground. Not surprisingly, Ghevont’s analytical eyes were quick to catch clues, and Clarissa’s sharper senses of smell and sight made her a natural tracker. I was thus the one who stood to use the most guidance from an expert—not that the bloodsucker allowed me to learn on my own. She was extra determined not to leave my side ever since leaving Kaspista. I didn’t mind. I had
missed her in my time in the desert.
There were plenty of animal tracks to identify when we descended into the valley. The prints of snow hares, bobcats, deer, foxes, and a bear were readily recognized. Then again, on the second day of passing through the woodland, a strange pair of imprints stumped the scouts. Turell described them as resembling the cloven hooves of large goats, but the tracks implied a bipedal creature.
Aranath was not stumped at all, saying, “It sounds like a minotaur.”
Getting out of Turell’s earshot, I asked, “How dangerous are they?”
“It’s easy to rile one up, but they are capable of reason and casting primitive magic. If I recall correctly, Wregor gained much of their prominence when allying themselves with the realm of the minotaur. Dragons allied with humans to help dull the aggressiveness of our youths, but minotaurs desired to sharpen the horns of their young in the battles of men.”
“So wild ones are rare?”
“Some minotaurs use Orda to escape their unforgiving world, or perhaps they were born here.”
“Can we speak with them?”
“What?” asked Clarissa, who had wandered closer to me.
“I was talking to Aranath. He thinks the prints are from a minotaur.”
“Oh. Is that bad?”
“Depends. Go inform the lieutenant what I think the prints are.” When she went to do what I requested, I repeated my last question to Aranath.
“It’ll be as eloquent as an adult speaking with an infantile, but I should be able to communicate basic intent.”
“That’ll have to do.”
“You expect to encounter them?”
“This place isn’t that big, so yeah, someone will see them, unless there’s only a single shy one living here.”
“‘Shy’ has been bred out of that race long ago. If it comes down to violence, remember to keep your distance and let the soldiers rain arrows from afar. The hide of an adult minotaur can withstand all but the most powerful spells, so arrows aimed for their snouts will be your most keen tactic. If close range combat becomes a necessity, then slash right above their hooves. Their hide is thinnest there, and cutting the muscle behind the lower leg can make the whole beast tumble over.”
“You said they can cast spells?”
“Of the brutish kind. Much of their prana goes into enhancing their already great strength, and those that can cast artless elemental or ward spells can earn their place as generals. Still, a small herd of minotaurs can change entire landscapes with these simple spells if they so wished. In fact, there’s a high chance any minotaurs here are aiding in the valley’s recovery.”
“Ghevont will find that interesting.”
He did.
The scouts had discovered the tracks early in the evening, meaning there wasn’t much time for the griffins to seek out minotaurs from the sky. Instead, in the interest of making certain the camp wasn’t going to be positioned near the territorial beasts, Lieutenant Nedica, two of his men, the vampire, the scholar, and myself decided to track the prints before a snowfall covered them up. Thanks to Clarissa’s eyes and miscreant streaks of moonlight finding their way through the cracks in the clouds, we didn’t have to attract a minotaur by declaring our presence with torches and luminance spells.
The prints moved in a generally southeastern direction, not straying far from Captain Quince’s position. Bigger hooves joined the smaller ones about a mile and a half from camp. The end of a brief discussion stated that if they moved another half mile from camp, then they would be far away enough to not cause trouble.
Clarissa was the first to spot something behind a darkened tree line three hundred feet later. She crouched and waited for a little more moonlight to enter her steady eyes. When that moonbeam fattened, she whispered, “I see something. I can’t… It’s like a big hairy guy. It’s scratching its back on a tree. I don’t see horns.”
Repeating Aranath’s assumption, I said, “Might be a young female. They have horns, but they’re much smaller than a male’s.”
“Fascinating,” said Ghevont. “Then the bigger prints must belong to her mother. Young female minotaurs learn from their mothers while older sons accompany their fathers to hunt meat and protect their territory… Uh, now what?”
“Lay low, scholar,” said the lieutenant. “We watch to see if she moves farther away. If she turns back this way then we’ll have to convince her to, um, not do so.”
“Smooth orders, Turell,” said Clarissa. “Is it too cold for complete thoughts?”
“Concentrate your thoughts on the minotaur, madam vampire. What is she doing now?”
“Chewing on a tree branch… Maybe she does have little horns. Or maybe they’re ears?”
I couldn’t get a look at the silhouette much less individual body parts, so I closed my eyes and tried listening to the rustling environment. This mode of perception paid off. A bellowing exhale and crunching snow warned me of something big standing sixty or seventy feet to our right. My eyes opened and isolated the sounds to a tight cluster of trees. Going by the reflective orbs coming out from the obstructions, the being behind them knew it had been discovered. The white orbs floated on a brownish silhouette of a hulking humanoid eight feet tall.
I stood up, making the others take notice of what I was staring at. “Stay here,” I told them. “I think I can make small talk with it.”
“It’s unlikely a wild minotaur knows the shared tongue,” said Turell. “How do you plan on speaking with it?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Trust him, lieutenant,” said Ghevont. “He has his ways.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Clarissa. “I’ve missed enough of your escapades already.”
“Fine. At least you’ll show that I can even make an ally of a vampire. Let’s go.”
I walked toward the waiting entity, its exhales creating a thick fog before the breeze blew it apart. I rose my hands to show I was disarmed. Clarissa did the same. After a big shake of its head, the woodland dweller plodded its way toward us. Her form better manifested itself when she walked under a moonbeam.
Gray horns that curved downward like a ram’s grew out from the top bends of her bull head, a sign she was a she since Aranath said male horns brought to mind those of a typical Orda bull. Small triangular ears sprouted beneath the root of the horns. Coarse brown fur of varying thickness sheltered everything outside the face, forearms, and lower legs. Hands with four fingers looked more than large enough to crush a human skull like an orange. Four hairy bumps on her torso emphasized her sex further. Her snout snarled when we came within ten feet of each other, signaling us to stop.
“What do I say?” I asked Aranath.
“Repeat everything I say as though you’re angry or everything will sound insincere to her. Say ‘Megala’fa ramdala. Zek. Mek. Ramdala’fa.’”
After doing my best to enunciate the words in anger, the minotaur lost some of her snarl, though seemed to take a moment to decide how to respond. Finally, a stream of slickly guttural words left her mouth.
“I suspected as much,” said Aranath. “The dialect I’m using has fallen out of fashion. No matter, I can still understand. Repeat what I say next and then end with your name.” I did. After her turn, the dragon said, “Shenaga is her name. It means something like ‘happy tears.’ Kneel on both knees. This will signal your desire for a peaceful talk. She should do the same. Be warned—standing up before she gives her permission will be taken as an insult. You can also assume she’s offending you if she stands before asking your permission.”
As the dragon stated, once Clarissa and I went on our knees, Shenaga did the same. We spoke like this for about five minutes, my legs pretty much freezing solid in the meantime. Aranath did not seem to think he had time to explain everything he said through my mouth or what he heard, so the conversation continued to be a mystery. Except for the times Aranath reminded me to stay angry, I thought it went well.
Two minor interruptions came when she
bleated a prolonged call that was apparently meant for her daughter. The young minotaur, who still stood six feet tall, appeared behind her mother a minute after the appeal, though she didn’t come as close to me as the adult. The other disruption happened when the rest of the scout team started getting closer. This bothered the mother until I told them to hang back.
The unorthodox discussion ended when Aranath told me to stand up, which the minotaur did at the same time. Her heavy head bowed and I returned the favor with my lighter one. She retrieved her daughter and left east.
I heard the others coming closer, so I told Clarissa, “Tell them to give me a minute.” As she left to keep the others from hearing me talk to myself, I asked Aranath, “Care to explain the conversation?”
“I explained our goal and who was doing the actual talking. I believe she understood most of it. Minotaurs like to pretend they know more than they do.”
“Did you get her story? Are there more of her kind here?”
“Yes. She wouldn’t give me a number, or perhaps I did not catch it, but she belongs to a clan who make their home in these woods. I even asked how they came to be here, but she remained reticent on that point. I suspect she or her parents were banished from her realm.”
“What gets a minotaur banished?”
“By committing a crime of cowardice or disloyalty, but one somehow seen as justifiable, avoiding an outright death sentence.”
“She seems to be doing well for someone who was banished. Was she here to scout us?”
“No. Her daughter wanted to see the humans for herself, forcing her mother to go after the impulsive child before a mortal misunderstanding occurred. They will regroup with their clan and watch us from afar. As long as the army does not begin tearing down their home, they will not interfere.”
“Good to clear that up.”
“There’s something else. When I told her of our destination, she advised against it.”
Flight of the Dragon Knight Page 11
