Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane)

by Rath, Thomas

  Once past the melee it was only a small distance that lay between her and safety. Forgetting caution, she raced headlong for the shoreline and her beached canoe that had suddenly become visible in the darkening night. The shrieks and screams of the bloody fight abruptly ended with a last hopeless cry just as she reached the river’s edge. Chancing a quick glance back, a shiver shot through her as she could just make out the form of the stalking shadow bent over the spider’s curled and bloody corpse. She could hear it rip into its prey’s swollen flesh as it hungrily devoured its victim’s innards. She barely stifled a scream of terror and disgust with the sudden realization that that very well could have been her being eaten in the spider’s place.

  The shadowy figure suddenly looked up and glared at her, its glowing yellow eyes holding her in place for a mere instant before she turned away and threw herself and her canoe into the safety of the river. A mocking howl ripped past her, chilling her deeper than the cold water that now surrounded her shivering body.

  Quickly pulling herself from the icy river and into the canoe, she dug her push pole into the swirling flow and pushed the vessel out towards the center of the river. The current was strong, testing her exhausted strength as it beat against the small craft threatening to wash her down through the rapids she had spent most of the previous day getting past. Running them in daylight would be risky enough, at night it would be suicide.

  Rani tried to eliminate the sounds of the forest behind her by concentrating on moving quickly up stream and away from the stage of death. To her relief, the shouting rush of the Belfar River rapidly replaced the cries from the awaking forest leaving her with a small sense of security. She pushed on, further upstream, ignoring the burning in her limbs and the ache in her back. She wanted to be far away from that scene of death. Those yellow eyes forced themselves back into her mind driving another shiver up her spine. She had come close to losing her life today, too close. Life in the Teague swamplands was dangerous at best, but nothing she had ever experienced came close to what she’d seen today.

  Trying to force it all from her mind, she concentrated on the river’s currents which were difficult to navigate in the early darkness of night before the moon rose. She picked her way through as best she could until the water finally slowed from its rush into a silent, drifting flow. She was exhausted. She had to find a place to tie up and sleep but she wanted nothing to do with the shore on either side. She would push her canoe until morning if need be, but she would not get near the forest again this night, or any other.

  It was at least an hour after the moon had finally made its appearance and bathed the water with sparkles of hypnotic light, before Rani happened upon her salvation. A large, stone bridge spanned the width of the river supported by two rock pilings that jutted up from the bed beneath; a perfect place to tie off her canoe. Pushing herself under the bridge, she secured her line, pulling the craft up close to the slimy stone pillar just out of the line of sight of anyone, or anything, that might pass above while she slept. Satisfied she was safe, she loaded her blowgun with a poison dart and lay back against her pack using it as a pillow.

  All around her seemed peaceful and quiet as if death incarnate did not lie in wait just beyond the edge of the forest to either side. The water brushed by in quiet serenity stroking at her exhausted mind, bidding her to follow on currents of restful bliss, but the gloomy thoughts that gripped her would not allow such blessed slumber. She remembered. It tore at her heart and sapped the light from her soul. But still, she remembered. The reason she was there in that cursed river alone. Alone. She was alone, and empty.

  Rani’s mind raced back to the year when she had first felt the Burning. It was a time to celebrate in a young person’s life. When one felt the Burning they were allowed to enter into a marriage contract with a man of their choosing. Should he accept, a year of purification was declared when they were not allowed to have contact with anyone of the opposite sex until the night they were bound as one. Rani had loved her chosen mate since the first time she’d met him and their wedding was a celebration for the whole community. His face flashed into her mind with the painful stab of longing that had been her lot for the past two weeks. Both their parents had been taken by fever years before leaving them alone as neither had any siblings. And now, save for her remaining children and the one she knew was growing inside of her, she was left with no one.

  Rani’s short time as a wife bore fruit the first year they were together when she delivered not one, but two boys. She had been ecstatic with joy and excitement. The whole community had come to see the twins that were such a novelty in the village. It was almost unheard of for a Waseeni to give birth to twins. Rani felt truly blessed by the ancestors and soon two girls were added to their family. When she discovered that one more child would soon grow their family to seven, she could not believe her great fortune. At least, that was, until a few weeks ago when her first born, Tahben, and her husband, had been taken by one of the vile creatures that inhabited the swamps snatching them right from her canoe as she climbed up the long ladder to their hut nestled in one of the enormous Teague trees.

  Rani ran her hand over the rough claw marks still evident on the side of her canoe. Tears welled up in her already red, swollen eyes, her heart aching from the pain of her loss. The guilt washed over her binding her like the spider’s viscid web trying to suffocate her soul in its merciless embrace. If only she had...what? If she had allowed Tahben to climb the rope first then she and her husband would bother be dead and it would be Tahben in her place seeking a gift to appease their souls and also take care of their family. Though the sweet thought of being taken with her husband was a tempting one she always pushed it aside knowing that her living children needed her now more than ever.

  An owl cried out in the distant sky drawing her back from the darkness into which she had allowed herself to drift. She listened intently for evidence of predators approaching but nothing broke through the gentle melody of the passing river and she found herself relaxing into the comfort and protection of her canoe. Quickly, the hypnotic sounds of the water reached up to her again, beckoning her, pulling at her mind, begging her to follow. With a soft sigh, she slowly let herself drift along, embracing the exhaustion that wrapped around her like a blanket and finally giving herself over to the water’s gentle caress. She slept.

  The sound of shouts and the striking of metal on metal suddenly echoed in the distance drawing closer with her every breath as Rani was jerked from slumber. She was in a fog trying without success to separate the lines and shadows into solid forms as they raced back and forth above her taunting her efforts. Another yell echoed through the mist seeming to materialize right on top of her in a din of ragged and desperate battle. She felt herself moving with the clanking of weapons to steel, the foreign oaths touching her fevered lips. Was she dreaming? Her eyes felt open but moved about unseeing in the clouded dark around her.

  Suddenly, a splash of water showered her from the side as an unmoving form disappeared through the haze on her left. She sat up, cold water drops running in jagged lines down her face like the tears she had shed in the distant night. She felt the sturdiness of the canoe beneath her, smelled the nutty scent of the lichen clinging to the rock piling behind her. Her body shook at the chill of the early morning damp. Another shout echoed through the mists that had fallen upon the quiet river and Rani realized her dreams had become the reality around her.

  Quickly untying the dew covered line, she pushed herself toward land trying to stay within the protective shadows of the bridge above. The curses and grunts rapidly grew louder as the fighting moved onto her side of the river. Pulling her canoe to shore, Rani grabbed her loaded blowgun and four extra darts and then slipped like a wraith through the gray mist, ascending the grassy embankment to the roadway above. The protective cover of the low hanging fog reached just to the underside of the bridge affording her ample cover and a quick escape should she be discovered.

  Raising her head
just over the vapor, she was instantly sprayed with blood as one of the combatants went down with an ugly gash to his forehead. It was a dwarf. It had to be. Her mother had told her of the rough, dwarf people that lived in the hard rock of the Dorian Mountains; their long red beards and braided hair, their squat, thick bodies and the large nose that covered most of their face.

  Another dwarf moved in desperate battle, swinging his battleaxe in wide arcs to keep his enemies at bay. Rani did not know the creatures he fought. There were three standing and two others littered the bridge spilling their gore upon the grass-covered stone. They were slightly larger than the dwarf having rough, black skin, though whether that was their natural color or just a coating of filth, she could not tell. Their eyes were completely black and they wore awkward pieces of armor and clothing that she could only guess came off the bodies of earlier victims. Their ears were large and fanned out like tiny wings on the sides of their heads and they were completely bald save for a tuft of hair that grew from the very tops of their skulls. Two of the combatants wore their hair long and braided with pieces of bone, teeth, and what could only be chunks of skin weaved throughout. The other’s tuft was just barely long enough to reach the back of its neck and flew about loosely. All carried swords in different states of disrepair that they pressed eagerly upon the lone dwarf.

  Without the slightest doubt, Rani chose sides and quickly loosed a dart into the clot of unknown creatures piercing the one with the shorter braid just under the armpit as it swung out wide with its sword in an attempt to remove the dwarf’s head. The dwarf blocked easily but was hard pressed in reversing his momentum to bring his great axe back in time to block the thrust of its companion’s sword. Dodging to the side, somewhat off balanced, the sword swept past harmlessly but he was now caught exposing himself to the first attacker.

  Rani watched contentedly as the ‘short braid’ moved in for the opening but was suddenly unable to maintain the weight of his body and, instead of making the kill, went down in a confused heap. The dwarf, somewhat amazed that his guts had not been spilled, took quick advantage of the pause in action to right himself in a defensive stance giving a little more ground to his stunned attackers.

  Rani also took advantage of the lull in battle and quickly gave another hard blow to her gun shooting out a second dart. The ‘long braid’ suddenly roared and threw his head back in anguish as the dart penetrated his left eye with a sickening thwack. With a quick slice of his axe, the dwarf cut short his pain as ‘long braid’s’ head toppled to the ground and rolled off the bridge. ‘No braid’ stared gapping at the dwarf with the sudden change in advantage.

  Squaring his shoulders, the dwarf growled. “Yer turn to die young one. Come and taste me blade.”

  Suddenly, ‘no braid’ turned and started running back across the bridge casting aside his sword as he fled.

  “Oh no ye don’t!” the dwarf breathed hefting his axe above his head and then letting it fly.

  Rani watched with fascinated horror as the weapon tossed end over end and embedded itself with loud crack into ‘no braid’s’ back. He dropped instantly without so much as a squeal.

  “All right, whoever ye be, come out and show yerself!”

  Rani jumped at the sound of the dwarf’s angry voice and quickly ducked farther down into the blanketing sheet of mist. Her first instinct was to flee. With the cover of the early morning fog, she was certain she could get away quite easily, but something held her in place. She held her breath and watched with nervous fascination as the dark outline of the stocky dwarf moved a bit closer and then turned about moving quickly away. Her heart beat fast and loud reaching into her head as she contemplated her next move. Should she look up? What if he was waiting for her just out of sight, trying to draw her out? She looked at her blowgun and quickly loaded a dart. She could still protect herself.

  “Gotcha!”

  Rani jumped at the dwarf’s rough sounding voice as it rang in her ears directly behind her. She attempted to turn about but the distinct prick of a steel blade resting against her neck froze her movements instantly.

  “Don’t be making any foolish moves now laddie, or I may be forced to be stickin’ ya with me blade.”

  Rani flushed at finding herself at the mercy of the dwarf; especially one whose hide she had just saved from being peeled off his back. “I’m no laddie,” she spat. “And I think this an awful way to treat someone who just saved your life.”

  “Is that so now...missy? And where might’ve yer next dart been aimed?”

  Rani felt her temper flare at the insult and turned around abruptly while pushing the blade away from her neck. “How dare you, you pompous little man! If I had wanted you dead, I would have left you to fend for yourself against those...those things, whatever they are. Now if you’ll excuse me, someone should look after your friend. And from the looks of you, he’d die for sure if I wasn’t here to help.” With that, Rani turned her back to the flabbergasted dwarf and marched up the bank passing out of sight through the thick fog.

  The dwarf just stared in disbelief, his dagger held limply before him, threatening nothing but the shadowy mist. After a long, dazed moment, he finally sheathed his weapon and followed her up the grassy embankment out of the cloudy shroud.

  Rani had made a point to unload her blowgun and place it far enough away from her as a sign of good faith, hoping to reassure the dwarf that her intentions had never been against him or his friend. The gash to his companion’s head was bleeding quite badly and had already soaked the ground around him. At first glance she had thought him dead.

  “Is he all right?” a somewhat timid voice asked behind her. “I meant no disrespect, lassie. Ye see, ye cannot be too careful in these parts if ye know what I mean. After all, I almost lost me head. I still had the battle rage coursin’ through me blood. I had no idea, missy, that none of them little needles o’ yers were not headed for me next. Ye must be understandin’ me caution.”

  Rani turned and glared at the fumbling dwarf. “Are you quite finished?”

  The dwarf looked down at his boots while wringing his hands. “Well, yes. That is, I guess I be.”

  “You know what Spindle root looks like?”

  The dwarf nodded.

  “Good. Go find me some. I think I remember seeing a patch under the bridge. I need the flowers mind you not the root. Make sure you don’t bruise the pedals. It’s no good to me if you bruise the pedals, got that?”

  The dwarf nodded quickly and then disappeared back into the thick mass of fog hovering below the bridge. It would have been a beautiful sight to behold, Rani thought quickly, like a patch of earth in the sky, if not for the stinky corpses littering the bridge. She was not really angry with the dwarf anymore. In fact she was still a bit frightened by him, but her façade of rage seemed to be working to her benefit and it kept him from getting in her way so she tried to maintain the edge to her voice and the fire in her eyes.

  Soon, the dwarf’s shadow reappeared in the mist like a ghost at its haunts before his body suddenly solidified as he stepped from the thick haze. Without a word, she took the tender, white pedals and laid them across the wound and then covered them with a poultice she had made of crushed feverfew and goose down mixed with her own spit.

  The dwarf watched dumbly, still unsure of his place while regretting his actions towards her as he observed how tenderly she treated his friend. “Will he pull through? I mean, it’s just a scratch right? He’ll be fine, right? Not daft or nothin’, right?”

  Rani looked up at the concerned look spread across the rugged dwarf’s face and found she could no longer hold her angry expression. “It’s hard to say at this point. He took quite a hard hit to be out for so long. Time will only answer your questions I’m afraid. The poultice should help quite a bit though.”

  The dwarf gazed at his friend’s pale face and swallowed hard. “They’re called orcs,” he finally said trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

  Rani fixed her eyes upon him wondering
if he hadn’t also sustained a head injury. “What?”

  He glanced up and smiled slightly at her concerned expression. “Those ‘things’, I believe ye called ‘em. They’re orcs. Ugly bunch of heartless dross. They infest these forests. Followed me and Bardolf here for half the night ‘fore they built up the courage to attack.” The dwarf paused for a brief moment and then rushed on. “Me name be Helgar Axegrinder. I thank ye for yer help this mornin’ with the orcs and Bardolf here and hope ye will forgive me me over caution.”

  Rani stared at his rough-cut features, as sharp as the rock that surrounded his mountain home. She peered deeply into his clear, blue eyes finding a tender and sincere heart buried beneath the hardened appearance of his exterior and smiled. “No harm done,” she said softly.

  Helgar coughed uncomfortably, suddenly feeling foolish. “Well then, that be fine little missy. Just fine.” He fidgeted about for a moment as if not quite sure where his hands should go and then he quickly turned about. “Well, I guess I ought to be cleaning this mess up b’fore the flies overrun us with their buzzin’ and bitin’.”

  Rani glanced at the gruesome remains strewn across the bridge. “Yes, thank you.” Then as an afterthought she added, “My name is Rani.”

  Helgar paused long enough to bow dramatically. “It indeed be a pleasure, lass.”

  Rani smiled at his sudden show of formality. “Please don’t lose my darts. Oh, and be careful not to prick yourself with them.”

  Helgar just nodded as he commenced to heft the orc corpses over the side of the bridge and into the quiet waters below. Rani busied herself trying to make Bardolf as comfortable as possible and then sat and watched as Helgar finished his unpleasant task. The fog began to clear, quickly dissipating in the warming rays of the rising sun as it crested the tall trees promising another hot day.

  Rani produced some hard bread and dried fruit from her pack. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked as Helgar approached, wiping the orcs blood on his trousers.