by Peter Plasse
“Well, let’s have at it then,” said Saviar. “What’s holding us up?” then, “Oh my aching back.”
Titan grinned. “Mine’s a lot older and aches a lot more. No complaining.”
Jared awoke, shaking the sleep from his eyes. It was still an hour before sunup, and with the thick cloud cover it was dark enough to keep him from seeing much of anything. He listened carefully before he stirred, ever mindful that he might be within spitting distance of an enemy if anything had happened to Diana. He crawled slowly out from under the huge pine where he had slept, during a drenching rain, and all the way to the spot where he knew she had stood watch. She raised a hand in warning, lest he speak. He eased up to her, and she motioned in the general direction of the trail. She made walking motions with her fingers and pointed again towards the trail, then gestured that she didn’t know if they were friendlies or not. He nodded that he understood and motioned that he was going to take a better look. He slipped off in the direction of the trail, disappearing into the murk.
In about half an hour he was back, and smiling. “Troops,” he said softly. “Ravenwild troops, lots of them, lots and lots of them. It looks like a major military movement to me. But come and see. You might know better.”
They proceeded out to the trail and found unmistakable signs of exactly what he had said. There had passed by, during the night, a large battle force as evidenced by thousands, more likely tens of thousands, of Human, Elf, and Dwarf prints, as well as the ruts of hundreds of heavily loaded wagons.
“They’re marching on Vultura!” he announced quietly, with his arms folded on his chest. “No doubt about it. And look here,” he said, pointing to the trail. “They had sweepers. Lots of them, trying to make it look to anybody who happened to notice that there are a lot fewer of them than there actually are. See how deep these ruts are.” He scooped out a handful of the loose mud and leaf from one of the rut tracks that the sweepers had covered.
She stood looking at him, blowing on her hands for some warmth, while the rain ran all over them. “I agree,” she said, “Although for the life of me I can’t begin to imagine why they are taking the war to Vultura. It doesn’t make any sense to me.
“Unless … ”
“Unless? Diana, unless?”
She stared at him, unable to find the words to complete the thought. “Nothing,” she said finally. “It’s nothing.”
The morning stayed miserable as they slogged their way along, oftentimes over the tops of their boots in mud. They had decided to stay on the trail left by the advancing troops and try to catch up to them. They reasoned that the troops were trying as hard as they could to remain incognito, meaning they stood a fairly good chance of catching them, but by sundown they had neither seen nor heard any of the Ravenwild forces. It was the same the next day and the next after that: The same footprints, the same wagon ruts, but no troops.
“There can be no doubt,” said Jared, on their third night camped out, “they’re pushing hard for a reason. They’re going to take the fight to the Trolls and Gnomes in Vultura. Can you make sense out of it?”
“I cannot,” said Diana. “But my father’s no fool, and if he’s behind this, there’s a plan. He has always said that the most important part of any mission is a clearly defined end-point. So I’m sure he has one, although I can’t begin to imagine what it is.”
Jared chuckled softly. “I guess that’s why he’s King.”
The fourth morning of their arduous trek across the western Ravenwild Plains brought their efforts an entirely different result. The first thing they heard was the ringing of steel on steel as sword met sword. Then, as they got closer, they heard the screams of the Humans, Elves, and Dwarves who had been critically wounded in the fray, and the frenzied cries of the officers on both sides as they screamed out orders to the clashing warriors. They hurried along now and, coming to a spot where they could see what was going on, crouched down and watched as the two opposing forces struggled, the one to rout the other. It was clear that the Trolls were winning.
Diana’s face turned deathly pale as she saw the Trolls besting the Ravenwild troops. “There’s Thargen,” she whispered, pointing him out as he did battle with three Trolls that were doing everything they could to wear him down and take him out.
“We need to help!”
She stood and started to draw her sword. Jared roughly shoved her down. “No!” he whispered forcefully. “This fight will not be won by sword or mace. This battle will be won by the use of superior weaponry. Come now, help me with this.”
He hurriedly opened his rucksack and began to remove clay pots of the incendiary powder, fashioning fuses for about thirty of the smaller ones and dividing them up into two equal piles. He started inserting the fuses into them, motioning curtly for Diana to do the same. The ferocity of the battle right in front of them made it difficult to concentrate, and each had to focus all of their thoughts on the task before them to keep their hands from shaking. When all of the containers were ready, Diana asked, “What now?”
“What we need to do,” said Jared, “is work our way back around to the rear. That’s where we need to start to thin them out.
“Each of these will take out ten, maybe twenty, of them. Just be sure to give them a good heave, then duck, or they will take you out.”
As he said this, he quickly struck a tiny fire of Burnfast, and then formed two longer fuses. “Use this,” he said, handing one to her, “until it burns out. Then you’ll have to light the next one from the one you’re going to throw. That will be the tricky part. Let’s go.”
Diana looked at him, fear written all over her face. She would gladly go down in battle if it meant a chance for the free races to survive. But the thought had suddenly struck her that she might, in the next few minutes, lose the only man she had ever loved. “Hey,” she said, placing her hand on his arm, “don’t get killed.”
He glanced up at her, as he fiddled with the fuses on each of them to make sure they were properly seated, and nodded. “Same for you.”
He placed all of the primitive grenades in two buckskin wraps, one for each of them, and lit the two long match-cords.
“In the name of the Old One.”
“In the name of the Old One.”
They raced around the back edge of the clearing, trying to get to the rear of the Troll forces. One of the Trolls spied them, and a group of about ten broke off, charging straight at them. Jared touched the lit-end of the long fuse to the fuse of the explosive vessel and …
Nothing happened!
The fuse was damp! The Trolls came at them hard, rapidly closing the distance between them. In a matter of seconds they would be dead. He tried another. It smoldered briefly … and then caught. He waited a couple of seconds and heaved it forward, where it landed in front of the oncoming Trolls. One of them saw it and stopped. Then the rest of them stopped. The one who had picked it up stood there looking at it as though it were some sort of curio. The others in the group gathered in close to inspect it as well and, suddenly, there were no more Trolls in front of them as a massive explosion rocked the valley, blowing them into oblivion.
There was a brief silence as all the warriors on both sides considered the significance of this astounding event. Then, the battle resumed.
Jared and Diana took advantage of the smoke screen resulting from the detonation and ran to the rear-most position, behind the attacking Trolls. From there they launched two more, then moved, and launched two more. Not all of the devices were effective, but each time they were, large clusters of Trolls were blown to smithereens. Fragmented and disorganized, those that survived the explosions were whittled down by the Ravenwild troops, who pressed forward crying, “For Ravenwild! For Ravenwild!” In a matter of minutes it was all over. Jared and Diana stood and watched as the last of the Trolls were cut down.
Out of the smoke appeared Rolan, who dropped his sword and sprinted forward to Diana, lifting her off her feet in a huge hug. “My daughter!” he cried.
“You live!”
Jared took the time to gather up the remainder of the grenades, carefully placing them in the buckskin wrap.
“Oh, Father,” was all Diana could manage as she cried unashamedly.
“We’re not going to be able to get it out without breaking it,” said Forrester. “And we can’t have that.”
“We need a tool,” said Orie. “Dad always says, ‘The right tool for the right job’.”
They had searched everywhere in Cirrhus’s house for some sort of tool that they could use to remove the stubborn switch from Cirrhus’s bed and had come up empty.
“I think we should leave it be,” said Forrester. “I think that you should stay here and operate it. I will use the portal and go to the Agden Woods. You can watch everything from here. I will find a way to get Jacqueline. It’s the only way.”
Orie shook his head, “No.” The expression on his face said that not in a million, billion, trillion years would he ever not go with Forrester on the mission to rescue his sister. It might as well have been carved of black jade. It was dark. Somber. His only emotion at the moment was frustration.
He had a sudden thought. “Duh,” he said to himself as he thought it. He reached into Forrester’s pocket and withdrew the fenestrated stone, clipping it to his shirtfront with the holes facing him.
“Forrester,” he said. “Sit here, if you would please.”
He reached down and carefully released the switch at the foot of the bed, clicking it downwards. His image appeared in the tell-all.
Forrester sat, the small bed groaning in protest. A candle that needed replacing sputtered and hissed.
He handed him the tell-all. “Say my name.”
“Orie Alexander Strong.”
“Okay, now say, ‘Orie, invisible’.”
Nothing happened.
“Now,” he said, “say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong invisible’.”
He did, and Orie vanished. Forrester’s face took on a look of worry as he stared at the spot where Orie had been standing.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m invisible, that’s all. See, I can pick things up.” A cushion popped up and tossed itself back onto the couch, coming to rest against another pillow.
“How do we make you visible again?”
“How do I know? But at least now we’ve proven that it’s voice-activated. And I’m sure it’s programmed to make the commands easy to figure out. It might have voice-recognition technology. Relax, Forrester. Say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong not invisible’.” Nothing. They tried every command they could think of. He remained invisible.
“Well,” said Orie. “We have things to do. We need to go to the portal. We’ll bring the bed with us.”
In the chamber, under the outbuilding of Cirrhus’s homestead, Forrester Ragamund and his invisible companion set it down. “The way I figure it,” said Orie, “there has to be a tool in here that I can use to get this switch unbolted from the bed frame. I need a wrench or something. I’m going to check the maps. Can you look around for a tool or something that we can use to get this switch out of the bed, please? Something that looks like it might fit this bolt here.” He tapped several times on the problem bolt.
The maps seemed to unfold themselves. “According to the maps, everybody should be in the same place as when we came here, and they are … not! Forrester, what’s up with that? I thought you said time doesn’t pass ‘out there’ while we’re in here. This doesn’t make any sense. Look, Gracie and Ryan are way south of where they were a few days ago. Man, I should have been checking them every day. And look, Jacqueline is farther north. Mom and Dad are pretty much the same, and Stephanie … has totally disappeared. Jees, Forrester, time seems to be passing out there the same as it’s passing in here.
“Oh, man, we have to go, and we have to go now.”
The more he spoke, the more anxious he sounded as he contemplated the significance of this startling discovery. His biggest concern was Jacqueline. He imagined her starving to death, or at the very least frightened and cold. He was also terribly concerned about Stephanie’s missing dot, but having seen the same thing happen with Forrester’s, he hoped that this was a variation on that same theme. At any rate, it was clear that they had to get going. Immediately.
Forrester set a gleaming silver wrench on the bed, and Orie popped the switch. He did it quickly and without a spoken word.
He was very spun up about the fact that days had passed on the ‘outside’ while they had had their little recess. Forrester shared his concern.
“I cannot, of course, say why time is passing out beyond us the same as it is here,” he said. “That has never happened before. But I agree with you. We need to make ready and go.”
They went to the house and gathered all of their things. “Is it possible that the time-spell-thing passed with the passing of your friend?” asked Orie, as he strapped on his sword which then curiously disappeared.
Forrester thought about it for a moment and said, “I suppose,” then, “I’m not sure.”
“Well, the thing is, I’m wondering if the entire enchantment of this area, you know, Cirrhus’s farm, will start to pass as well.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I’m wondering if there’s a certain, limited amount of time that we have to do what we have to do, and then we will no longer be under the protection of any magic.”
Forrester smiled a grim smile. “I guess we’ll have to fend for ourselves then, won’t we.”
Back under the outbuilding, it was time to put what they had learned of the enchanted stone and the portal to the test.
“First off,” he said. “We agree that we’re on our way to the Agden Woods. So I’ll go in the portal.” He checked the switch to be sure it was in the “down” position and handed it off to Forrester, attaching the fenestrated stone to his jacket and making sure that Forrester held the tell-all itself.
Orie’s image appeared in the stone.
“I can see you in this,” said Forrester.
“That’s because it’s keyed to your voice, and, you know, the switch is down.
“Say my name.”
“Orie Alexander Strong.”
“Now say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong, Agden Woods’.” Nothing.
“Try saying… … … ”
On about the fourth try, on the command, “Orie Alexander Strong, transport, Agden Forest,” Orie disappeared and his image in the tell-all noticeably dimmed.
“Are you gone?” asked Forrester.
Orie’s voice came from both the portal and the stone. “I am definitely not in Kansas, Toto.
“No, I mean I’m here, yes, in some sort of forest. Not in the portal anymore. Now, keep the switch in the down position, get in the portal, and do the same thing. Say, ‘Forrester Wiley Ragamund, transport, Agden Forest’.”
In an instant, Forrester was standing in the Agden Forest with his invisible friend. He could, however, see him plain as day in the tell-all.
Orie had already unfolded and was studying one of the maps. “Wow,” he said, “according to this, she is only about twenty, check that, twenty six miles north of us. Come on!”
“Whoa there,” said Forrester. “Twenty six miles is a pretty long hike. And we are in decidedly hostile territory. We run into the Wolves and I, anyway, am lunch. What I want is for you to walk behind me. If we get attacked from the front, I’ll be better able to protect you. If we get attacked from the rear, they won’t see you, and I will at least know where you are.”
Orie fell in behind and they started walking briskly in the general direction of Jacqueline’s position.
“Isn’t it great that the portal worked?” remarked Orie. “That’s the first thing on this whole trip that has gone smoothly.”
The going was remarkably quiet as they padded through the pines, the sound of their footsteps nearly completely muffled by the carpet of pine needles, the earth spongy beneath their feet
When they rested at around noon, they ate sma
ll portions of dried, spiced sausage that Forrester had found on one of the shelves in Cirrhus’s kitchen. Seasoned to perfection, it was a much-needed, tasty snack. Added to some dried apples and nuts, and washed down with cold water from a trailside spring, they were refreshed and ready to travel in no time. Orie hooked his drinking flask to his pack and pulled out the maps. They could see that Jacqueline was moving steadily northward at a rate almost as fast as theirs.
“Look at this, Forrester, she is here now. This morning she was there. In another two days, or less, we’ll have made the border. Isn’t that incredible?”
“It is,” agreed Forrester. “How’s everybody else doing?”
“Mom and Dad have not budged. Ryan and Gracie … same. Still no Stephanie. I’m telling you, I’d be a lot more freaked about her missing dot if it had not already happened to you.” He shouldered his pack, declining to speak further about Stephanie’s missing dot.
“I know you would be, Orie. Now let’s try and make some time and catch up to your sister.”
Forrester jogged along now, great strides that ate up the land. Orie loped along behind him. The sounds of the forest were all about them. Birds chirping, squirrel-like critters squabbling over nuts, the occasional call of a coyote. Then, suddenly, there was nothing but silence. Forrester slowed his stride and drew his sword. Orie went to do the same, but before his sword had cleared its scabbard he was bowled over by a massive bear-like creature that was intent on taking Forrester down. Orie’s surprised grunt as he was blasted out of the way was probably what saved Forrester’s life who, when he heard it, whirled and cut a large slash in the chest of the beast. It was hard to figure out which was more bothersome to their attacker, the wound on his chest, or having had his attack-rush foiled by something that he had never seen. But instead of pressing the attack, he stood, immobile as stone, and stared at Forrester as the blood ran down his chest and forelegs and onto the forest floor. His eyes glowed red. They bore the look of hate. Forrester, himself almost as big as the bear-like creature, had backed up against a tree where he stood his ground with his sword held high, waiting for the inevitable charge which, strangely, never happened. The bear-creature lifted his head, sniffed the air, and decided he had had enough, ambling slowly back the way it had come.
