Tranquil Fury

by P. G. Thomas

  Alron then went over to Lauren, “Earth Daughter, threats does increase, and we does move too slow. Eight mounts extra does we now hath, we does only need seven. Both wagons, we does marry as one, put all we does carry into thine wagon that Mirtza does hath. Mirtza does then place wagon in his pocket. Horse, pony, and stag does we then ride. Faster it does be, less obvious tracks does we leave, does be easier to hide.”

  It made sense, so Lauren nodded in agreement, and then went over to the food that had been set out, filled a plate, and then sat down beside John, “I want a hot bath.”

  “I want the internet,” replied John.

  “She still isn’t talking to me. I think Alron has aged seven hundred years in the last few weeks. He won’t tell me, but the black-clad now control this country. Three guard posts in one day. That’s too many. You didn’t pack any stealth technology with you before we left, some sort of science project you were working on?”

  John did not have an answer for Lauren, he was afraid that if he kept talking, that she would hear the fear in his voice, and he just continued to pick at his cold meal.

  Lauren was not upset that John did not answer her, as she was afraid that if she kept talking, John would hear the fear in her voice.

  It took some convincing, but Alron finally got the dwarves to load their possessions into the back of Mirtza’s wagon. When they expressed fear of losing their possessions should something happen to Mirtza, Alron suggested that they ensure his safety if they wanted their possessions back. Mirtza had to turn his back to hide his smile, now knowing the six Ironhouse brothers would be looking out for his safety.

  *******

  IT like. Too easy. So Many. Fresh. IT like fresh.

  Chapter 27

  That night Alron did not trust Mirtza’s guard bats by themselves, especially with a strange beast in the woods. He assigned everybody a one-hour guard duty, always having two posted in the camp. When the morning finally arrived, everybody was grumpy, tired, or both. Mirtza and Gor had the last watch of the night, and as the camp began to stir, the two prepared a meal of fresh buns and fruits, but it did little to satisfy their desire for fried meats and hot bean juice. Before everyone had completed their meals, Mirtza walked over to his wagon, and threw his cloak over it. As it came down, the wagon was gone, and Mirtza grabbed his cloak before it landed on the ground. He bent down, picked up the gold amulet, and tucked it into his cloak. When he turned around, the dwarves and elves were speechless, this being the first time they had ever seen the Trickster practice his arts in front of them, other than the mysterious boxes. Aaro and Bor walked over to where the wagon had sat a minute ago, walked around the spot just scratching their heads. When Mirtza did the same with the oxen in the harness, their confusion multiplied. Then they took to their mounts and headed back to the south road.

  The Dawnfalcons were waiting at the last guard post that had made them turn around the day before. When Alron asked for a report, Babartin and Careel just raised their hands, trying to form an answer, but both were speechless. They rode up to the guard post, and saw the four black-clad, dead, and Alron cursed under his breath. When word made it back to their command, they would increase the patrols in this area to hunt down the beast. Those extra troops would likely arrive from the south, making it harder for them to travel in that direction. He sent the front guard ahead, and waited for the rest to meet up with him. As they rode south, he reported to the Earth Daughter, but made no comments about the strange situation, which two hours later repeated itself. Alron had them pick up the pace, but like a simple equation, their progress again came to a stop after two hours. The Dawnfalcons advised of the next guard post, ‘all still live.’

  In some ways, Alron hoped the beast that dined on black-clad soldiers would continue its nightly feasts, and possibly provide a distraction to help hide their presence. But with its appetite satisfied, he needed to find a way to avoid those, that the bear so eagerly sought out. “Through woods canst we go?”

  “Forest does be too thick,” Babartin replied.

  Lauren rode up beside them, and listened to Alron update their current situation, “Earth Daughter, pass we canst naught, neither canst we wait. And other routes we does naught hath. Guards we must dispatch.”

  “No, they have already lost too many up here. If more die, and by sword, it will only get worse. Babartin, how far is it to the guard post?”

  “Quarter mile it does be Earth Daughter”

  “Alron, let’s ride up and look for a place to enter the forest. When we get inside, I will help it to conceal us, and the noise that we make. When we arrive at the other side, we will be back on the road. If something goes wrong, then you can attack them. I think it would be better if the black-clad did not receive reports that two-legged intruders with swords were present.”

  As they rode south, Lauren spotted a section of forest that looked promising and turned her horse into it. When everybody was off the road, she slowly began to hum, very softly. The trees and branches in front of her began to part, providing her passage. The ground became moist to absorb the sound of leaves rustling, and dried branches breaking. It took about forty-five minutes, longer than Alron would have liked, but he eventually saw the road come into view. They gave the front guard a ten-minute lead, and then started down the road again, but two hours later, Lauren again had to coax the forest to allow them to pass another guard post. When they made it to the road, Alron advised the front guard to find them a camp for the night. If the pattern continued, they had less than two hours before they would find another post, and he wanted to camp exactly between the two, so that he did not push their luck.

  Alron gathered the group together that night, advising them of their current progress, but did not tell them anything that they did not already know. He informed them that they would rest for two days, so Panry and the Dawnfalcons could head south, identifying any threats. Then, when they returned, they could better plan their next move. Alron did not like the plan, but he liked playing hide-and-seek with the black-clad even less. He was hoping they might be able to find a side trail, a less traveled route, anything, as long as it was good news. The Ironhouse brothers assigned themselves to guard duty, and Alron gave strict orders, no fires, or noise.

  *******

  In the morning, the three Earth Guards were gone when the group awoke. Realizing that they had a two day breather proved relaxing for most of them—not Alron. The seventy days of incident-free travel, twenty days of increasing opposition, his concern was growing like the presence of the black-clad soldiers. If he knew where he was going, the distance, it would help. If somebody knew that he was coming, had sent out reserves, he would be less apprehensive. He only knew one thing for certain, protect and serve.

  None of the Earth Guards had ever trained for anything like this, and he suddenly realized that he had more in common with Lauren than he originally thought. Alron spent his day high in a tree, where he could watch both directions of the road at the same time.

  Back at the camp, Lauren found a secluded spot towards the back, and thought about what she could do.

  John wandered over after she had been sitting by herself for an hour, “How are you doing?”

  “I really don’t know,” she said looking up, “I just wish I knew when this was going to end. How is everybody else doing?”

  “Good and bad. The food sucks, cold nights, it’s getting harder to sleep. Everybody is on edge, but nobody has raised any grievances against you. You seem to be doing pretty well, getting us by those sentry posts. Is Mother helping you?”

  “I think it is just the staff. If she is talking to me, she is whispering really quietly. Has Logan heard anything from Sister?”

  “No, he is as edgy as the rest of us.”

  John realized that Lauren did not want to talk, could feel her anguish, “Lauren, you are doing a great job, don’t worry.” He knew she would not answer, and wandered over to Gingaar, “Tell me about your training, your talent.”


  “Friend John, gift I does naught hath. Training plenty I does hath. Gift without training, naught does happen. I does be fifty when Earth Mother does start mine training.”

  John was shocked, as he thought Gingaar only looked to be about twenty-five, “How old are you now?”

  “Seventy five”

  “Wow, how old was the Earth Mother?”

  “Two hundred years, more I does think.”

  “She looked much younger. What made her think you had the gift?”

  “I does tend to injured field plants.”

  “I thought the elves lived in the forests?”

  “We does, but raise some crops also we does. Fruits and berries, more than that does be required to survive.”

  “So you would tend to the injured plants, what would you do?”

  “If one does get knocked over, be it wind, animal, or person, tend it I does. Massage bruise, stake it, even does I sing to it. Extra water, attention, that be what I does. On their own, they heal. Earth Mother does think I does hath gift.”

  “What changed between when the Earth Mother saw you do that, and when they started to train you?”

  “I does naught know. Earth Mother does struggle with riddle as well. Classes I does attend with others, blossom their gift does, mine does whither.”

  “How long did you heal the plants in the fields?”

  “Years many I does tend them, heal them I does naught.”

  John looked around and saw a small tree about twelve inches tall. It was probably two or three years old. He bent it over, but did not break it, “Can you try to fix this tree?”

  Gingaar moved closer to it, straightened it, caressed it, talked to it, but in the end, it was still bent, “Naught gift does I hath John,” and a tear started to form in her eye.

  “Gingaar don’t be sad, let me think about this. I am pretty good with riddles.”

  The only news that Alron received that night was bad, patrols on the road every two hours. He went to bed without talking to anybody else, hoping that his men had found a safe hold for the night. The next day, Alron was again in his tree, watching the patrols ride north and south. He had hoped that his men would bring him some much-needed good news, and well after the final sun set, the forest shrouded in dark, Panry and the Dawnfalcons finally arrived.

  Hearing Alron greet his men, stirred Aaro, Bor, and Lauren from their tossing and turning, and joined him, wanting to hear the report first hand. The increased patrols they already knew about, guard posts every two hours, they also expected. But, just two days ride south a large fort, constructed in an open section of the forest, blocked their passage. Fresh water was the reason for the location, a river flowing beside it with only one bridge, which led into the fort. Before Alron could ask, Panry advised the river was too deep and fast for them to ford. There may be spots, but they would need time to check both directions.

  Alron shook his head, could not believe the misfortune. Sixteen guard post, possibly the same number of patrols. Even if they were able to get by those in the next two days, an impassable river guarded by a fort blocked their route. And if they got to the river unseen, it could take a week or more to find a place to cross, and they could be set back by over a month. Even though they did not have a timetable, every extra day they spent trapped in the forest increased their odds of making a mistake, or worse.

  Lauren looked to Alron, wanted to hear his plan, but he could not meet her gaze, “Panry, Careel, Babartin, I does thank thou, thine news does naught be good, but at least we now does know what does wait for us. Mine men does need rest Earth Daughter, this night we does spend here, tomorrow we shalt make plans.”

  Lauren remembered asking Alron what the trip south would be like, remembered demanding the truth from him, and remembered that one word: bad. Lauren muttered to herself. Stepping in a pile of dog crap, that’s bad. Maybe bad means something else in elf, like catastrophic or disastrous. She wandered over to John and Logan, told them the news, that they would be spending the night here, moving out the next day.

  Logan woke to the bright moon overhead, his feather tattoos urging him from his troubled sleep. The guards at the front never saw, or heard him wander out the back of the camp. He remembered seeing Zack’s empty bedroll, but never gave it any thought. He wandered without purpose for about an hour in the chilly night, as if he was looking for something, and when he came across a large deadfall, sat down to collect his thoughts. Reaching to a nearby tree, he felt the dry, brittle leaves, ran his hands along the ground, felt the dry leaves and sticks. Two days ride through an enemy infested forest, blocked by fort and river. Logan might not have the training that Alron had, but even he knew they had to find whatever it was, that they were looking for. He reached up to the dry leaves in the tree and uttered an apology, “Sorry Mother, to save thine children, we does need to sacrifice thine forest.” Smoke started to wisp from the leaf that he caressed, as he pulled his hand back, a flame appeared, began to grow, spreading to other leaves. It slowly worked its way to the crown of the tree, as a gentle breeze blew the burning leaves onto other trees, and the fire spread. Burning embers, large and small, floated down to the ground where the dry kindling embraced them, welcomed them, warmed to them. The south winds intensified, help spread the fire, fueled, and directed it. One breeze seemed to circulate through the burning trees, pulsed through the growing inferno like a heartbeat. Smoke rose, hit a thermocline, its skyward passage blocked, it floated south and east. Logan watched the fire engulf the forest for about an hour, mesmerized by the show the dancing flames put on, watched smaller trees get consumed than topple over, setting more on fire. Wondered what magic was in the Ironwood trees, the huge green giants, standing tall, with the bright orange fire dancing around them. It painted an image in his mind that was hard to forget. With the fire developed sufficiently, its southward journey now set, Logan finally stood, and headed back to the camp.

  *******

  Alron was lying awake that morning, his eyes still closed, when he first smelled the smoke, the burning wood. He looked to the west and saw the sky obscured by thick gray smoke tumbling over the forest. He ran to the back of the camp, quickly climbed a tree. It was close, he whistled, Earth Guards jumped into action, getting everybody on their feet. “Our flight does be made worse, as forest does be ablaze. Shelter it does naught provide. We does ride now.”

  Everybody quickly saddled their mounts and headed back to the road, as the smoke grew thicker. When on the road, Alron kept the rear and front guards close, so if they stumbled on any patrols or guard posts, he would have all of his men to protect the Earth Daughter—and her friends. He was expecting the travel to be slow, with everybody coughing, but the smoke seemed to be thicker to the sides and above. Alron was trying to find the right pace, fast enough that they would not be surprised, but not too fast that they would ride into a threat unprepared. So when they came to where the first guard post would be, he called for them to slow down, but Logan rode past him, and the guard post. They could hear the fear in the tethered black-clad horses, as they sensed the approaching fire, but the guards were silent. Unseen by the group, the fresh wounds on the guards, and the bear tracks in the ground.

  Alron realized at that moment, the forest fire was a blessing, realized that Sister was providing the much needed protection from the ever-vigilant presence of the black-clad guards. He whistled, and the pace picked up, as all following Logan. A few times Logan pulled his mount into the forest to wait, while coughing patrols of black-clad soldier rode by, obscured in a veil of smoke. Alron figured the suns would be setting soon, and rode to Logan, telling him they needed to make camp for the night.

  But Logan shook his head, “Naught till river we does arrive at.”

  Alron fell back to the rest of the group, advised they would ride all night with only the smoke obscured moon to guide them. He did not like it, but they were making the best time of the journey so far. The night was long, the riders weary, and while the smoke did not hinder them
like the black-clad, some still found its way into their lungs and eyes. Tired, fatigued, it seemed like the night would not end. Hidden by the thick forest and smoke, the first sun began to scale the horizon, push back the night. Alron was riding beside Logan, when Panry rode up to them, advised they were getting close to the river and fort, and that they should find a place to hide for the day.

  Logan shook his head, “Got to get to the other side,” and dug his heels into his mount. They continued their ride in the murky world until they came to the clearing, where Logan turned his mount east to follow the forest edge until it came to the river, which was twenty feet wide. Its current was fast, and a rocky bottom disturbed the river surface, made it rough. Logan dismounted, rubbed the blue feather tattoo as he approached the cold fast flowing water.

  The smoke was thicker, and began to cloak the small group. Alron could hear the fire getting closer, and when he looked to the west, the flames burning brighter, glowed in the haze.

  Logan caressed the surface of the river, dipped his hands into the cold water, and felt his fingers go numb. He reached deeper into the frigid water until he completely immersed both feather tattoos, felt the ice begin to form. At first, the flow was too great, and it swept the forming ice down the current, but it soon gained a purchase. As the rest watched, large patches of thick ice anchored to the shores, reached out to the middle, and then married together. Logan continued to concentrate on the ice, now that it had connected, he made it thicker, and wider. And when the ten foot wide bridge, twelve inches thick was complete, Logan pulled his arms out, they were blue with cold, blood now having difficulties circulating body warmth to his arms and hands. He turned and stumbled, trying to get up the bank, his teeth chattering, but was unable to gain a handhold to pull himself up. Alron and Panry jumped off their stags, grabbed his arms, and dragged him up to the top of the river bank. Alron jumped down, tested the thickness of the ice, and felt it heave up and down as the turbid current trapped underneath complained of its unnatural state. Alron called out to everybody, to dismount, to cross one at a time. He knew the stags, ponies, elves, and dwarves should be able to cross the ice bridge, as well as most of Laurens friends, it was the large black-clad horses, which worried him the most. He called to the Earth Guard, the lightest, had them cross first with the borrowed black-clad horses, when the ice bridge would be the thickest. Panry and the Dawnfalcons made two trips each to get all seven horses to the other side. Alron would need the horses to flee south once they were across, and when the horses were secure, he called to Lauren and her friends, but not to Eric.