by R. C. Rutter
CAVE of FORLORN
A Fantasy Novel
R. C. RUTTER
Dedication
To Candace who gave me the gift of time; to Aiden James for his insight and encouragement; to Gloria and Tracy for being truly good friends and believing in me; and to my two daughters who continue to bless me every day.
Books by R.C. Rutter
Cave of Forlorn
Shabb’s Revenge (2011 on Kindle)
CAVE OF FORLORN by R.C. Rutter
Published by R.C. Rutter at Amazon Kindle
Copyright © by R.C. Rutter
Cover Design by R.C.Rutter – [email protected]
www.rcrutter.com
CAVE OF FORLORN
Chapter One
Evandale was a quiet peaceful village. Flower boxes hung from many windows and the cool, crisp breeze signified that it was autumn, harvest time. Normally this time of year the streets would be empty as the fields demanded attention but these were not normal times. The Royal Army had been camped outside the village for three days so it was only a matter of time before they attacked. Word had spread to the surrounding area summoning all who could to come help in the village defense. Under cover of darkness, a small contingent of Freedom Fighters snuck their way into the village. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were severely outnumbered.
As Lydia approached the village, she could hear sounds of metal clanging as swords and shields hit each other. Her long dark hair was pulled back exposing her striking beauty. Intense blue eyes constantly surveyed the surroundings, looking for danger. It another time, she might have been praised for her beauty. Instead, she was known as a fierce fighter, a protector of the people. She was average in height and it was very apparent from her solid muscle tone that she possessed strength and reflexes beyond the average person. She began running faster, muscles tightening, and bolted towards the rock wall that encircled the village, easily jumping over it. She landed in a crouching position next to two Royal Army soldiers who were startled to see her. Their eyes opened wide in fear as she stood and in a flash drew her two swords. Before they could react, Lydia attacked. Both guards moaned as they fell to the ground in agony.
She charged another soldier who lifted his shield and sword as she approached. Lydia easily jumped, striking him as she flew over his shoulder, her body twisting as she flipped in the air. She landed behind him as he lost the use of his arm, his sword falling to the ground. An experienced fighter, he thrust the sharp edge of his shield at her but she easily deflected the blow and plunged her sword into his chest. This was her village, her people, and she would defend it, to the death, if necessary. She made her way across the village square, battling each soldier who made the mistake of getting in her way, and leaving all of them on the ground.
Lydia took a shortcut through an alley to her family’s house. Moving down the path, she was quickly surrounded by wolves. Wolf sightings in this area were the essence of legends. She, like many others only knew wolves from picture books and the stories passed down from generation to generation. Still, something was vaguely familiar about the wolves, each of them hesitating, studying each other. Snarling and growling with their muscles rippling, the wolves prepared to attack. They could smell no fear and had watched her as she fought. They knew she was dangerous so they approached cautiously. She slowly turned in a circle, making eye contact as she pointed her swords at each of the wolves. She counted nine in all. The nearest wolf lunged at her and landed on the ground at her feet, bleeding from its throat. Three more attacked at the same time and were quickly dispatched. Despite her youth, Lydia’s years of training and many battles made her a formidable opponent so not much scared her. She started mocking the wolves “C’mon little doggies, come closer so you can die!”
Another one of the wolves lunged but Lydia was too quick. She took one step back before the wolf even got close. Her acute senses warned her of what the wolf was about to do.
Lydia screamed as the pain shot through her neck. It was burning unlike anything she had experienced before. Another wolf had jumped from the top of the building and clamped its jaws on her neck as it landed. She got mad at herself, she let her guard down and she knew it was dangerous to underestimate a wolf. By lunging at her and knowing she would take a step back, the wolves knew it would put her in a perfect position for an unexpected attack from above.
Lydia fell to her knees, still trying to remain upright, still trying to remain in control while her swords fell to the ground. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the pain. She knew the bite was poisonous and that she would be dead in a matter of minutes.
A tall skinny figure with dark hair and a dark complexion came out from between two buildings and stared at the girl. Lydia reached for her swords to defend herself but the intense pain took control. He determined that she was about the right age. Turning, he motioned for the wolf pack leader. The wolf came over, nostrils flaring, sniffed the girl then scratched the ground and nodded his head. Beads of sweat were flowing freely from her forehead as she swayed, having chills at the same time. Waves of nausea and cramping pulsed through her twitching body. She knew it would soon be over.
“Not what I expected” said the tall figure as he reached into his satchel and took out a small vial. “If she is the chosen one, the pain would have been almost nothing. Still, I guess it would not hurt to use this.” He looked at the wolf pack leader as if for confirmation. “It must be her; she fits all of the descriptions.” Lifting Lydia’s head, he opened her mouth and poured the liquid.
Lydia coughed as the fluid went down her throat, tingling and burning at the same time. Life re-entered her body. She opened her eyes and instinctively felt her neck for the source of the pain but the bite marks had healed, leaving only a scar. Before she could speak, the tall figure leaned over and knocked Lydia unconscious, then lifted her up and put her over his shoulder.
Howling from the wolves called the rest of the pack. They had spread out in the village looking for the girl and she had now been found. This part of their task was done. They were not interested in joining the fight. That was a human problem.
One man, twelve wolves, and a girl made their way out of the village. The Royal Army soldiers made a path for them and would not look in their direction when they passed. It was believed that just looking at a wolf or confronting a wolf would bring instant death.
The fighting in the village continued for just a few more minutes. A few of the locals spotted Lydia amongst the wolves but were unable to help. They had their hands full fighting the soldiers. In less than an hour after it began, the sheer size of the Royal Army overwhelmed the small village. This was the first time that the Royal Army had actually attacked a village. It would not be the last time.
The Royal Army soldiers made their way through each building, killing anything that moved and ransacking whatever they could find of value. The village was burned to the ground as the soldiers celebrated. Lydia was captured and the fate of her family was unknown. It seemed like a bad day to her. It was a very bad day. But it was only the beginning. It was going to get much worse.
* * *
‘It was just another day on the other side of the forest’ Seth thought to himself. ’Same old stuff. Marching again so our presence is known to all who lived in the area of Bellenrose. The great band of Freedom Fighters was on patrol. Watch out anyone who dares to attack. We are a force to be reckoned with.”
The reality is Seth’s feet hurt. He was in great shape from working on the farm but the military boots were giving him blisters. This routine patrol had been going on for two months and disappointment filled the ranks as there had not been a single chance to fight anyone or anything except for the occasional rodent. He had become accustomed to
the weight of the armor; it was like carrying a bale of hay around and his helmet covered his curls. Blond hair hung down over his weary blue eyes which confirmed that he was tired and bored.
The dirt road was taking a toll. The choice positions were in the front of the column as there was less dust in the air. The Freedom Fighters were patrolling a rural area, surrounded by trees. They had been marching for a long time but could not tell where they were. After a while the rolling hills all looked the same. Small white puffs of smoke rising from the occasional hut here and there were the only things that broke the tranquility.
Captain Artemus sent word back that they would be stopping in a few minutes. That was all they needed to hear. Seth was irritable and tired of listening to Thorgon as he labored to breathe. It was not Thorgon’s fault, it was just his size. His reputation told of the many foes he had killed but no one had seen him fight in years. His size was enough to discourage anyone. His left arm swung his shield which reached to a typical man’s waist. His dangling sword was as long as a typical man’s leg. His helmet was really not much to look at. None of the standard helmets fit him so the blacksmith shaped a bucket and poked some holes in it. Wasn’t pretty but at least it protected him a little bit. It even appeared that his muscles had muscles. The only muscle that did not seem strong was the one between his ears. Still, there was no one better to fight alongside than Thorgon, he was true and loyal, a great friend.
Thorgon looked over at Seth with a quizzical look. “Seth, wah brothers?”
“The last time I saw Jason he was up front on the point as usual. Malcolm wandered off again and this time was talking to a farmer about increasing his planting of corn.”
The brothers Wainwright were always all for one and one for all. Jason was the oldest brother by ten years and convinced his siblings to enlist with him. It seemed to be a good idea. The farm was successful but it was a small farm, not quite enough to sustain all of them. Between the wages they were able to send home, their younger sister, and mom’s hired helpers, they were all doing okay. Now the brothers had steady pay and were fed every day. It was a noble way to make a living but they wished they could at least fight once in a while. Some say their dad was a fighter but no one really says much about him. Their mom refuses to say anything so they finally quit asking. Malcolm is the middle brother often found in the forest, just sitting there. He was often described as a strange lad if you asked anyone but their mom always defended him. Anything that grows intrigues him. That, of course, leaves Seth as the youngest brother, two years younger than Malcolm, best of the bunch as he liked to describe himself. He was a tall, handsome, brave, blue-eyed blonde, and the first of his family to be schooled in the town.
The Freedom Fighters rounded a curve in the road and several of them recognized the rock formations. It was called Wolf’s Bend. Some say it was because of the shape of the rocks, they looked liked wolves. Others tell the tale of the sheriff that was supposedly killed there by a wolf. To the left was a hill and the right side sloped away. The dirt road was wide enough for two wagons to pass, or in the case of the soldiers, five men abreast on patrol.
A loud yell came from the front which was the signal to stop. Finally, they had the opportunity to rest their feet and maybe eat a little food. Thorgon let out a sigh of relief which caused a belch. He could finally munch on an onion which they knew would mean another belch later. There was no doubt that he liked onions as he ate them often. “Maybe that is how he defeated his enemies, he breathed on them” Seth thought to himself. He must have been laughing because Thorgon looked at him and said “Why you laugh?”
“I was thinking it is good to stop” Seth quickly replied. To tell him the truth would not be wise. Thorgon looked at him “Stop well, rest, eat.” All of the tired and weary soldiers turned toward the hill and climbed up. Every soldier knows height gets the advantage. Seth and Thorgon were joined by Petril, Racal, Charlen, Noag, and Aldar. The soldiers tended to group themselves by villages. They were all weary except for Petril. How someone could have so much energy is beyond anyone’s guess. Moans were heard as the soldiers started to loosen their gear. Racal volunteered to start a fire for cooking.
“Maybe after we eat we can get some sleep” Seth said. This was met by laughter. It was well known that the captain would never allow sleeping. “We are to stay alert at all times in case of a surprise attack by a chipmunk or squirrel”. This was met by more laughter.
It was Aldar’s turn to cook so everyone knew it was stew. “So, what are you cooking Aldar?” inquired Noag. Aldar grumbled with a sneer in his voice “Stew, wat’s it to ya? It’s warm n filling. Ya don’t like it, ya can starve.” One might think Aldar was in a bad mood. If that was the case, he was in a bad mood all the time.
Bodies collapsed everywhere as soldiers either sat or laid down to wait for food. It was good to rest.
The quietness of the forest was broken by a very loud thump.
It was a weird sound. Seth looked around and no one else seemed to notice so he went back to his daydream. Leaves were rustling and the sound was pleasing.
Thump.
This time he knew he heard it. Again, no one else seemed to notice. They were all engaged in various activities and paying no mind.
Thump.
This time it was like he really did not hear it, more like he felt it. Then it happened again. Another thump followed several seconds later by more thumps. When he looked around this time, everyone was sitting or standing with their eyes wide open and listening. No one was making a sound.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Now it was becoming a pattern, almost a constant rhythm. Confusion was the general expression as the rhythm picked up, it became more audible. Not only could they feel it, but now they could hear it. Each of them contemplating what to do when Thorgon threw down his onion and let out a yell. They knew what that meant. Noag threw dirt on the fire and sadly on the stew as well. No hot meal today. No one hesitated reaching for their armor.
They stood there motionless; listening. Thumps were becoming louder and louder. Then silence, complete infinite silence. No, not just the thumping stopped, but the animals too. Even leaves quit rustling. Not a sound. Seth imaged he could hear blood coursing through Thorgon’s body but it was only his heavy breathing. Seth made a mental note to himself “I must do something about those onions!”
They stood there for hours or minutes, no one really knew for how long. They just stood in complete silence.
Then it started.
First a thump,
Then another.
It was quickly followed by several more.
Now it was not a rhythm but random and LOUD. Whatever was making that sound was getting closer. Beads of sweat were on everyone’s foreheads and their hearts were racing. “Swords and Shields” was the command. They waited.
Eargott came running down the road screaming and limping, his shield and sword held in the air over his head as his arms and legs were flailing. His helmet was gone exposing his bald head and blood was running down his left leg. He was the rear guard and was known for his toughness. Yet here he was, screaming like a little girl. His face pale like he had seen a ghost. They tried to listen to what he was screaming but it was hard to make out the words. “Soldiers” finally cut through the silence.
The Freedom Fighters panicked. “Soldiers?” Noag questioned. “Here?” The soldiers coming had to be from the castle. The Royal Army has been battling them for ten years and they knew better than to cross the border and come into Freedom territory. Yet here they were and from the sounds, there were many of them, too many to count. Eargard raced past on his way to the Captain but fighters knew not to wait. Freedom Fighters started to come down the hill to the road when the first soldiers appeared. They prepared for battle, knowing that this would be bloody. By this time, everyone was armed and marching toward the road. They would defend and if they were lucky, die protecting the land. Oh, stories of the bravery, songs they would sing. Freedom Fighters would
be glorified.
Seth thought to himself “Or we could be cowards.” The Royal Army was coming; it was massive and moving fast. Too fast. There would be no time to defend. They were going to be trampled. Thorgon yelled “Stand. Fight. Swords.” They stood their ground.
The army swept past the Freedom Fighters, ignoring them like they were invisible. No one knew what was going on, it was like they were not even there. It took a few moments but they realized the soldiers were not actually quick marching but were running. There were hundreds of them, too many to count, certainly more than 125 Freedom Fighters on patrol.
They blew right past. Red-headed Petril was always ready to fight. He yelled “Chase ‘em, kill ‘em” and started to run. Thorgon yelled “NO” but it was too late. Petro was cut in half by an arrow but it did not come from the RA soldiers, they were already out of sight. “Where did…” Seth started to ask but stopped in mid-sentence. Coming down the road was a chariot pulled by two large black horses. The chariot was solid black including the cloaked and hooded rider. Gold on his collar was the only thing that was not black. There were markings on the side but they could not read them. The rider passed in front and loaded another arrow. It shot with such force that fighters were knocked down. They got back to their feet with their ears ringing loudly. Thorgon was yelling something. Seth could see his lips moving. Luckily he was waving his arm in the direction they needed to go. Stunned, they stood there for a minute then began moving their feet. It did not last long before they were knocked down again. This time they saw a cloud of smoke to the left in the direction the chariot went. Then all was quiet. No thumping sound, no animals, no rustling of leaves, just the ringing in their ears and now the silent smoke.
