“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Time will tell, but so long as I have reservations towards you I will remain uneasy.”
Aphere knew from the finality of his tone that the conversation ended. She stewed over his words and silently fumed at the casual dismissal. How could he be so blind? Surely the bond told him much the same? At one point, her people had been considered among the best and brightest in all Malweir. Then ego had set in, and Gaimos had fallen. That deluded sense of superiority had led to their downfall, a fall Pirneon had survived. Now he was the one showing the error of hubris.
She tried to shrug off the terrible feeling gnawing away and fall back to sleep. Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and menacing. As she lay her head down, heavy winds shook the bark. Sleep was a long time in coming. Aphere lay with open eyes and watched the storm renew.
The storm continued unabated through the next day, and they agreed to wait it out in the shelter of the barn. All, that is, but Geblin. The Gnome grumbled and cursed for the remainder of the day. The longer he remained with the knights, the more he couldn’t wait to finally be free. Folding his wiry arms across his chest, he paced back and forth. No one paid his efforts attention.
Aphere had her own problems. She knew in her heart that something wicked was coming for them. Pirneon’s nonchalance about her confession infuriated her to no end, but what else could she do? All she had was a feeling. A crawling sensation buried deep within; all she’d known threatened to change.
The feeling grew stronger as the hours passed. She felt powerless. Aphere glanced around the barn, desperate for someone to confide in, but saw none. Pirneon had all but blown her off. Geblin was out of the question. Barum was becoming a good friend but still had much to learn about the world. That left Kavan. She wasn’t sure, but she had a hunch he was leaning towards romantic inclinations towards her. Flattering as it was, his love was the last thing she needed — the last any of them needed.
Her thoughts drifted back to those cold winter days in Ipn Shal under the teachings of Kistan. There, Aphere had learned to control her mind and body. The Gaimosian bond in her had transformed into a wondrous thing, giving her gifts and advantages few others enjoyed. Her insights served to heighten her senses. That newfound awareness left her certain they were being hunted. By whom, was the problem.
Aphere and Kavan broke contact and eased back from each other. They were covered in sweat and breathing hard. Their swords gleamed brightly in the emerging daylight. It had finally stopped raining in the small hours before dawn. Pirneon wanted to leave as soon as possible, but two days of being cooped up in the barn left them all restless and troubled. So they danced swords and released any pent-up frustrations in the process. Aphere still couldn’t shake the ill feelings, however, for they had only grown stronger. More than once, she found her mind distracted when it should have been focused on Kavan.
“You have good form,” he said, admiring the sheen of sweat on the bared flesh of her arms. “ But you’re not paying attention.”
Aphere lowered her sword. “I am troubled.” Her voice was the barest whisper.
“Do you have doubts about the mission?” he asked, the concern showing deep in the wells of his eyes. He went to sit on a moss-covered boulder to begin cleaning his sword.
Aphere shook her head. “We’re being hunted.”
Kavan’s head rose slightly. “By whom?”
“I don’t know. The feeling strengthens every so often but never goes away.”
“When did you last feel so?”
“Last night, just before dawn.”
An ill feeling crept into Kavan. “Have you told Pirneon?”
“He dismissed me without any thought.”
Kavan grunted. He wasn’t surprised. Pirneon was an old man set in his ways and didn’t take well to counsel. Convincing him of her revelations would prove difficult, especially given his attitude towards the inexplicable change of her bond. He didn’t say it, but the once Knight Marshal was weary and mistrusting of them. Kavan knew better than to intervene in the matter.
Geblin sat chewing on a piece of straw, listening carefully to their conversation. He couldn’t say why, but he also bore an ill feeling. He knew they were being tracked, and once they were discovered, the blood would flow. He thoughtfully searched for a way to save himself before it was too late.
High above the land, so high there wasn’t a shadow, a terrible winged beast soared between the clouds. The cross between a dragon and a nightmare, the great beast had skin of leathered flesh and dull, grey scales. Mottled shades of red and black spotted its belly. Twin horns ran back from the forehead, accenting green eyes with a malevolent twist. Clawed hands made for rending flesh apart reflexively clutched at the empty sky as it scanned the ground.
The beast hissed as its rider jerked the reins to guide right. Air whistled off the almost bone-like membrane of its vast wings. Pharanx Gorg patted the beast on the neck and smiled. His prey was below. He was the leader of the Fist. Pharanx was a tall and bitter man. Tattoos covered the majority of his flesh, barely discernible from the deep bronze coloring of the sun. Ragged black hair blew wildly in the wind. Naked from the waist up, Pharanx peered down.
Once locked on, his coal black eyes never left the tiny band of Vengeance Knights far below. Vengeance Knights. He scoffed their arrogance. Soon enough, their name would be put to the test. The Fist had never run across one of the legendary Gaimosians before, and he relished the opportunity. But as much as he would have liked to attack now, he had other matters to attend to. Corso needed to be updated, and Pharanx still needed to move the main body of troops into position to engage. The assault would come fast and violent. He had little doubt of the outcome. The Fist was about to strike.
TWENTY-THREE
Hresh Werd
It took seventeen days to finish crossing the expanse of Ergos. The vast grasslands seemed to stretch forever. When Pirneon finally spied the fringes of Hresh Werd, his heart settled. It had been a long, largely boring ride. The weather had been mostly favorable, and the knights were able to make good time. One part of their quest was complete. The harder part about to begin. Somewhere, lost forever in the deep tangle of woods was the Oracle of Wenx.
Many had come in search of the oracle and his powers through the course of history, though few actually succeeded. Some disappeared in the heart of the Werd, devoured by the guardians. Others never made it further than the border before losing heart. Those rare few who went the distance came home changed. None ever spoke of what they saw or were told. Many went on to change the world while the rest stumbled into the doldrums of insanity.
Such was the power of the oracle. And here, on the far eastern borders of ancient Hresh Werd, stood the handful of Gaimosians seeking to right old wrongs and prevent the spread of evil.
“At last,” Pirneon whispered.
Geblin felt cold as he stared into the impenetrable darkness concealing the forest. Fear crept into his bones. He whispered, “This is not good. Many fell deeds have been done here.”
“Hush,” Aphere cautioned. “You’ll be safe with us.”
“Or perhaps you’d like to go back to your Ogre hole?” Kavan laughed as he eased forward a few steps.
Aphere shot him a stern glare. “Geblin is right. I can feel the spirits trapped in the forest. We should be cautious.”
Kavan drew his sword. “Let them come. I’ll dispatch them to the netherworld once and for all.”
“Listen to Aphere,” Pirneon called back to them. “In this instance, her insight might prove useful. We should not dismiss her warnings lightly.”
Anger flared at his words, but she held her tongue. She wasn’t an oddity to be used only when it suited him. Whatever evil was hidden in the Werd was already at work on them. They needed to act wisely or join the spirits of the damned. Barum drew his sword with a heavy sigh and headed towards the trees. Geblin recognized his intent and buried his face in his hands.
“Where are you going?” Pirneon asked, his
voice sharp. “We don’t know what lies within. Let us wait for full light before entering.”
Barum held up. He knew his actions had sparked the reaction he was hoping for. The miasma enshrouding Hresh Werd was beyond dangerous. How many seekers had made it this far only to succumb to the unique brand of madness engulfing the Werd?
“The forest is dangerous as it is; provoking wrath by entering in the dark would all but damn us,” Pirneon continued once Barum halted. “We back away and set up camp by the stream we crossed earlier. We enter the forest at dawn.”
Barum concealed his satisfaction as he sheathed his sword and wheeled about. He noticed Aphere’s smile and nodded to her in respect. Without knowing it, Barum had saved them all from a terrible mistake. Three sets of dull yellow eyes blinked rapidly in disappointment and watched the group depart. The guardians of Hresh Werd sat and waited.
Kavan finished swallowing his last chunk of partially stale bread. “How can such a place have that dark stain upon it? I thought the oracle helped people.”
“Oracles are rumored to be neutral. Theirs ways are neither good nor evil. It is the nature of the oracle to speak what is and what will be.”
“Then where did this evil come from?” Aphere asked.
Pirneon shrugged. “Who can say? We often need only look within our hearts to find evil.”
Geblin snorted. His earlier fears had begun to diminish.
“Think what you will, but it is in all of us to commit some act of violence or evil. Would you have been trapped away for food if there weren’t some dark intentions, Geblin?” Pirneon pressed. “Answer me not. For myself, I’ve killed more men than I care to recall. There was pleasure in doing so, yet they are all naught but bones in the ground now. Perhaps their ghosts are in that forest waiting for me. Who can say?”
“Ghosts and oracles.” Geblin frowned. “Have you ever seen either?”
“The world is filled with ghosts,” Kavan interjected. “You need only look behind you to feel one.”
Geblin clutched his knees to his chest and lowered his head. The longer he stayed with the knights, the more he hated them. He didn’t know why he was still with them. There was no reason to be, and he’d had more than enough opportunities to slip away. The Gnome finally lay down and curled up under his blanket. He’d had his fill of talk of good and evil.
“Are there any other oracles in Malweir?” Barum asked as he watched Geblin go to sleep.
Pirneon said, “Not in this part of the world.”
Aphere added, “I heard rumors of one in the far eastern kingdom of Gren, though I have never traveled so far.”
“They say Gren is a beautiful land filled with wonder,” Kavan said. “I would like to go there someday, when these nightmares are over and the werebeasts destroyed.”
Werebeasts. No one had mentioned such in the better part of a month, yet that latent fear propelled them forward. For a moment, Kavan thought about old Mun and Constable Chardis. What had become of them? He and Mun weren’t friendly, but Kavan didn’t wish the wizened old man harm. The werebeast had come close to shattering that sleepy village. He inwardly cringed to think what might happen if another fell to prey while they were undefended.
“Do you think all of this could be because of the latent evil of Gessun Thune?” he asked of a sudden.
“Why would you ask that?” Pirneon asked.
Kavan tossed the bare bone away. “Aphere has been feeling haunted for weeks. I’ve already killed more than one of the werebeasts, and there are rumors of more causing havoc in the north. All of this began months ago. That is more than enough time for any evil to spread and grow.”
“Hresh Werd is haunted, make no mistake, but I doubt the influence of the dark gods has extended to a self-exiled oracle. We are all tired and not thinking clearly. Let us sleep on it. I have a feeling the trek through the forest will be long and arduous. I shall take the first watch.”
Pirneon rose, snatched his sword, and went off into the night.
The others looked briefly to one another. Aphere took his display personal. The skill set she had developed under Kistan’s watchful eye, while fledgling and unpredictable at best, had given her newfound insight. Kavan once mentioned that perhaps the Knight Marshal wasn’t changing at all and that he’d always been like this. Barum immediately disagreed and confirmed that his master was different since leaving the desert. Aphere kept her opinion private.
Kavan was the first to ride into the almost suffocating confines of Hresh Werd. He rode without fear or his weapon drawn. Two torches hung from his saddlebags in the event darkness overcame them. His eyes were narrow. They never settled on one spot longer than needed. He was a solid professional entering a potentially hostile environment. Caution and vigilance were his tools. Unthinkable creatures were said to lurk under the canopy of the Werd, creatures born of magic.
His mount snorted at the sound of distant footsteps crunching lightly on the deadwood and old leaves. Kavan flexed his shoulders as memories of his last encounter in a forest returned. He’d barely survived the werebeast’s ambush then and vowed not to make the same mistake again. Reaching down, he pulled his sword loose and let it rest partially out of the scabbard. The time was approaching when he’d have need of it.
They stopped after a few hours to stretch and ease the burden of their horses. The forest seemed to creep in around them, lending a claustrophobic feel. The underbrush was thick, constricting. Kavan found it difficult to breathe. The heavy canopy blocked out the sun almost completely. Scarce patches of golden light streamed down inconsistently throughout the Werd, adding to the haunting effect. The trees were old, grown to massive proportions.
Hresh Werd was thought to be one of, if not the, oldest forests in Malweir. No one but the Elves could say for sure, and they were a most reclusive people. Few had ever seen an Elf, and those who did spoke of them only in passing. Glimmers of shadow in the dark parts of the world. Some named them the wardens of the world. If such tales were true, Hresh Werd was long forgotten.
Tangled vines lay strewn across paths unwalked by man in years. The older trees were gnarled and twisted from passing centuries. Younger, newer trees shot straight like ash grey spears. Streams intermittently broke up the landscape. The strength of the forest was overwhelming. An ancient thing rested in the heart and, through time, and manipulations had manifested itself into every inch of soil.
Kavan, still trying to shrug off the feeling that they were about to get into a fight, turned to the others. “How do we know this is the right way?”
His voice was hushed, deliberate.
“The paths are overrun, but the deer trails should take us close,” Pirneon guessed.
Kavan wasn’t convinced. “What if this oracle has guardians keeping everything from intruding on him? Hresh Werd is a large forest. We could wander for weeks and never find what we seek.”
Aphere suddenly bolted upright. Her eyes glazed over as she stared ahead. The others closed in around her, fearful and wary at once. She was frozen like a statue for a time, leaving them with naught to do but protect her. Whatever spell she was under was powerful, even for the Gaimosians to handle. At last, she drew a deep breath and collapsed. Kavan rushed to her side. He gently cradled her head on one of his thighs and checked her breathing. Satisfied she was in no immediate danger, he glanced at Pirneon.
“She appears unharmed,” he said.
Pirneon knelt down, genuine concern etched on his face. He was more worried over the power of the forest than her safety. Understandably so. The oracle could be set against them. This could well have been a warning. Part of him was sorely tempted to abandon the quest and ride north to Aradain immediately. He scanned the surrounding forests with one eye for telltale signs of ambush. He was only partially relieved to find nothing. If the oracle wanted them dead, this was the perfect time.
Aphere awoke with a ragged breath. Her body trembled. Sweat beaded across her brow and upper lip. She had a wild look, as if she’d glimpse
d a revelation too stark to comprehend. Kavan held her tight. Whatever torments she’d been exposed to didn’t prevent her from returning to her normal self.
“We’re expected,” she whispered with a shaky voice.
Pirneon jerked. “What?”
She stared back. “The oracle. He knows we are coming.”
“How can you be certain?”
“He...he touched my mind,” she stammered. “At the center of the Werd lie the ruins of an ancient temple. That’s where we’ll find the oracle. He’s waiting for us. He shared his mind with me. Pirneon, this creature is as old as the dawn of the world. I felt such raw power, such knowledge. He knows of our quest and about the nexus.”
“Then the oracle can indeed help us,” Pirneon replied.
“There’s more. He knows, and he’s afraid.”
They rode the rest of the day in silence. Kavan was both relieved and apprehensive. The uneasy feeling from earlier was gone. Whatever creatures the oracle used to protect the forest had been told to stand down. The mood of the group lightened, if only just. The forest seemed to open up, creating a clear path to the Oracle of Wenx. Only Pirneon continued to brood. His concern over Aphere grew, compounded now by the contact made with the oracle. Why her? That central thought dominated his mind. He couldn’t make sense of it. Thousands of Gaimosians were born and died, and hers was the gift that somehow mutated? He found the notion to be abomination. This Kistan might be more trouble than he was worth. Again, Pirneon resolved to visit his fellow knight at the complex he was developing on the shores of Thuil Lake.
Pirneon found his gaze narrowing and constantly shifting back to Aphere throughout the course of the day. She was an enigma that tested the limits of his faith. Why her? He was the eldest, the most experienced of the surviving knights. By rights, the oracle should have contacted him. It was his right. It should have been me! So involved in his own thoughts, Pirneon failed to notice the forest thin.
Beyond the Edge of Dawn Page 15
