With Gokkus leading the two Helluvans left the edge of the forest and entered a more opened plain. Occasionally Gokkus would quickly glance at the map that had been given to him but he seemed to retain most of its imagery in his memory. The two Helluvans were so silent they made a breeze sound like thunder as they moved through the wilderness.
Suddenly Zova grabbed onto the shoulder of Gokkus prompting him to stand perfectly still. Zova searched the darkness to the right of her; sure that she had seen some kind of movement. When it was revealed that such a movement was nothing more than a large bird feasting on insects upon the ground the two preceded with their plan.
The half a mile or so trek felt more like a journey in itself as their minds were weighed down by the responsibility that they possessed, especially Zova. Fortune, if only briefly seemed to smile upon them as the landscape offered no hinder and in actuality it did not take them long to reach the ridge. They had yet to see any sign of the enemy camp but they knew it was close and according to the map just over the ridge.
The landscape behind the ridge seemed as random as it was uneven and it proved difficult to find a spot where they would not be overexposed. Placing their bodies in an uncomfortable position of half lying, half sitting upon the ground they looked over the ridge and saw beyond it. As they looked across the distance of the camp they could immediately see that the camp held several hundred more than the original 800 werewolves that were originally counted. In place of being a bad thing the additional werewolves were an indication that perhaps the entire troop was now within the camp. There was a very large bonfire burning near the center of the camp though nobody sat around it. Most of the werewolves were sitting around much smaller fires that had been set up in a strange pattern that could only be fully seen through the eyes of a bird flying overhead.
The scent of the fires filled the air and morbidly they smelled of burning flesh yet it did not appear as if the werewolves had been cooking anything. Guards were picketed on all sides including near the ridge. That was something the Helluvans had not expected. Why would they? It seemed impractical to have guards facing something that easily could be used as a natural defense against enemy attack. The closest guards to the Helluvans was only about 20 yards away, this combined with the light of the moon and the stars, not to mention the vision werewolves possessed made the risk of detection extremely high.
Both Gokkus and Zova looked around the camp to each of the fires and the werewolves that gathered around them. They could see that many of the beast warriors were drinking deeply from enormous cups, no doubt enjoying the sting of ale. Their eyes locked onto what lay at the center of the camp not far from the roaring bon fire.
A simple tent made seemingly from some kind of hide stood alone with the symbol of the Maka Voan carved into its top. The tent was not there because of some kind of vanity or a need to be recognized by Thark but rather its use was practical. The tent was little more than a place to keep maps and other plans out of harm’s way from the weather that had always proven itself to be unpredictable.
It was within this tent that Thark must have been for his enormous frame and yellow fur covered jaw could not be seen elsewhere. Zova focused her gaze upon the tent as the man dressed in black opened the box so carefully that the hinges did not make any sound as they folded. As the box opened it revealed a bolt that looked more like it had been carved out of some kind of white wood than ice. It had a sharp silver tip that seemed to have somehow been treated so that it did not catch the light of the moon across it. Its size was the perfect counterpart to the crossbow being several times larger than even the broadest of arrows. As Zova placed the crossbow so that its strange end was above and below her right shoulder Gokkus carefully placed the bolt upon the string of the weapon before reaching his hand over Zova as he began to slowly turn the strange pulley system. Centimeter by centimeter the string was pulled up and already great pressure could be seen upon it. Zova kept her eye upon the camp looking for any sight of her target, as much as they both wanted this over they would have to be patience and wait for Thark to leave the tent.
The string had soon been pulled back completely and its strength could be seen by just how severely the bow had been curved. All they needed now was a target.
As Zova Kept her eye upon the tent Gokkus continued looking over the entire camp making sure that none of the werewolves were looking in their direction. Even the closest of the guards seemed preoccupied with its own thoughts standing at attention but staring at the ground before it. They could see the werewolves communicating in various ways, as some talked softly to one another, others were cackling at something that only werewolves could find humor in.
Minutes seemed to pass like hours but there was still no sign of the Thark. Then the night air began moving swiftly summoning a wind that came across the camp and as it did so Gokkus and Zova held their breath silently cursing this act of the nature. They watched as almost in unison a large number of werewolves raised their heads and sniffed the air. All they could do is wait and see if these monsters could smell their presence in the wind. Now it was so tense that seconds passed like days as the werewolves kept their heads raised. Gokkus looked down upon the closest guard and was silently grateful that its head remained lowered.
The wind eventually passed and the werewolves resumed what they were doing before it came. Either the Sheki had done what it was meant to do or the wind simply had not been close enough to pick up their scent. In any case they remained undetected but it was a close call, too close in both of their minds.
Then both Zova and Gokkus noticed a single werewolf and when they saw it their blood became as cold as the Molin of the bolt. The werewolf appeared to be staring directly at them. Both remained as motionless as possible in an attempt to salvage the chance that they had not yet been seen. The werewolf began walking towards the ridgeline, its gaze appearing not to move away from them. As the werewolf passed the borders of the camp it gained the attention of several guards who watched as it approached the ridge. It was then with the creature less than 20 or so feet below them that they realized it was not looking at them at all but something upon the rock face. It snarled slightly as it took in hand something from the ridge, perhaps nothing more than a piece of rock before it turned and reentered the camp. The pair began breathing again though their hearts remained beating faster than even the drum god could contend with.
They continued to wait for any sign of Thark and after sometime a commotion began at the other end of the camp. Both Zova and Gokkus were drawn to the commotion and watched as a small group of werewolves entered the camp with a giant amongst them. Believing that it may have been Thark himself Zova redirected her aim and watched as the group moved further into the camp. As they passed the light of a roaring fire Zova could see that the giant was not Thark for it possessed no discoloured fur.
But before her hope sank completely she was drawn to movement from the tent as Thark appeared from its entrance. His gaze was drawn to the new group of his kin but the light of the fire illuminated his position. Quickly but carefully Zova took aim and felt as if the very world itself was ready to crash down upon her if she failed. Even for one as skilled as her it was a hell of a shot to make. She held her breath and steadied her aim, as the leader of the Maka Vaon appeared to be angry with the approaching group. She studied the beast’s armored chest and found her mark but did not yet fire, the air may have been quiet but it was not yet completely still. Too much was riding on this one shot to make a mistake now. Feeling the pressure his companion was under Gokkus held his breath as well.
Then the air began to move but not in front of them but rather behind them. Mother Nature was up to her old tricks again and this time the wind would fall over them before sweeping across the camp, bringing their scent with it. From such a direction it was doubtful that the Sheki could override such a power. Time had been taken from them and now Zova had only a second to fire her bolt before their presence would become known. <
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Time did not slow down but if anything seemed to hurry as if it was racing Zova to see what would happen first. Zova fired the bolt and it was launched from the weapon with incredibly velocity. It all occurred so quickly that as soon as the bolt struck the chest of Thark, shattering into nothingness Zova and Gokkus moved away. But not before the man dressed in black took notice of how the guard who had seemed lost in its own head was now staring in their direction.
They moved quickly down the ridge as the wind swept across the camp, they had beaten it but only barely and had not taken the time to see Thark had fallen. Believing the guard had spotted them Gokkus and Zova ran through the darkness as a choir of howls sounding like it was from the depths of the darkest pit cursed the air behind them.
Back at the Helluvan camp nothing had changed, the remaining Helluvans all sat around the fire saying nothing to one another as Cada Varl peered out into the moonlit darkness. The thick tension of the air had made the passing of time as slow as it was frustrating but when Cada Varl suddenly said, “They are approaching.” New life seemed to fill the group, they sprang to action, gathering up their packs and quickly dousing the fire.
“Is anything following them?” Hazum Ka-te asked desperation clear in his normally calm voice. The moment it took for the Immortal to answer felt more a year filled with long days. The smallest of smirks appeared out of the corner of his mouth as the Immortal replied, “No, nothing.”
How Gods Bleed Page 16
