Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Anger quickly replaced disbelief and dread. Valam, Emel and Adrina had deserted him. Vilmos knew dawn was near and that he must act or surely he would be recaptured, but where would he run to? If he made a wide circle around the camp and tried to follow the others, could he find their trail? Did he want to find their trail? After all, they had forsaken him.

  Vilmos caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t wait to find out what it was he saw, he ran away fast as he could. Unsure which direction to flee, he ran aimlessly. His fear drove him on and only his instinct and the flora of the forest controlled his direction.

  Then as dawn lifted darkness from the forest leaving only shadows, Vilmos stopped running. Tired, hungry and feeling desperately alone, he slumped on a moss-covered stump. He stared up through a break in the canopy where a ray of soft white light radiated down to the forest floor.

  Vilmos moved to the spot bathed by the warm ray and found a sense of security in it. He thought about Prince Valam, Princess Adrina and Emel then. During his run he had come to terms with what had happened. He was no longer angry or mad at them for leaving him. He understood now that they had done what they had to do. He heard the prince’s words in his ears, “… Use that chance, Vilmos, use it for all it’s worth. Go back to Tabborrath Village and leave the affairs of men to men.”

  Suddenly, Vilmos was homesick. It seemed forever since he had joined Xith and left Tabborrath Village. He lay back, crossed his arms behind his head and closed tired eyes. For a time he forgot about the dangers. He forgot that he was lost and alone in Vangar Forest. He knew only that images of home played before his closed lids.

  With Emel leading the way and Valam pulling her, Adrina raced faster and faster. At first she gave her sore and blistered feet little thought. She flitted along and kept pace just behind Emel.

  Soon Valam was pulling her more than she moved under her own power. Soon afterward, Adrina was limping. Seemingly without thought or hesitation, Valam picked Adrina up and, with her cast her over his shoulder, continued.

  For a time, all was well. Then, between her brother’s gasps as he heavily sucked at the air, Adrina heard shouts from far off. Valam and Emel apparently heard them too and panic urged them to new speeds.

  They raced on and on, the voices grew near intermittently and then again distant. Dawn was at hand, and gloom began to lift from the forest.

  “Their trackers are worse… than those of… South Province,” Emel said between breaths, “but still, what I wouldn’t give for Ebony about now… He’d get the three of us… out of this accursed forest… in no time.”

  Valam started to laugh or so it appeared, then suddenly he doubled over, and dropped Adrina.

  “It is a good time to rest,” Emel said, as he slumped to the ground.

  Adrina forced herself to stand on tender feet. “Are they far behind?”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” Emel said. “Do you think you can continue on your own?”

  “If you two can, I must…” Adrina was about to let her words trail off, then she decided to voice her thoughts. “Do you really think Vilmos escaped too?”

  Valam stood, then turned and stared in the direction they had just come from. “Let us hope so.”

  Adrina’s face lit with worry and showed her fears to the contrary. Emel took her hand and said, “I think he did, but now is not the time to dwell on things we cannot change.”

  Shortly afterward the three began running again. Adrina moved as swiftly as she could. Valam and Emel did their best to help her keep up with them. Shouts came from off to their left now and their feet lead them right. Abruptly they stumbled into a clearing. Adrina tripped over a bound and gagged figure that was lying in the grass on the edge of the clearing.

  Run, said a faint voice in their minds. Forget me. I am lost. It is a trap.

  Emel grabbed one of Adrina’s hands, Valam the other. They started to race away. A circle of dark shapes with glowing eyes emerged from hiding. A voice asked, “Where are our guests going?”

  Adrina recognized the voice of the speaker. “Erravane?”

  Deftly the speaker stepped forward, grabbed Adrina’s chin in her hand and turned her face to the pale light. “You are a pretty one.”

  Valam grabbed Erravane’s arm and twisted it back as hard as he could, which brought the woman to her knees. Pain was met with sick laughter.

  “Do you mock me?” Valam screamed as he twisted the arm back still further, fully expecting to hear the snap of breaking bones.

  The arm began to bend and change in Valam’s hand, growing thicker and shorter. Valam let go and pulled Adrina back, confusion and perhaps bewilderment showed on his face.

  “If you move again,” Erravane said, her voice changed as her body changed, “they will kill you.”

  “Close your eyes, Adrina. This is no thing for you to see,” Valam shouted. “Of all the beasts of hell…”

  But Adrina couldn’t close her eyes, she felt compelled to watch the metamorphosis. Erravane’s eyes were glowing now and fangs filled her mouth, a mouth that was twisting and contorting, growing wider and longer as Adrina look on in fascinated horror.

  Valam stepped in front of Adrina protectively. “If I had my sword,” Valam said, “I would run you through and send you back to the icy pits you ascended from.”

  Erravane snapped her head and locked powerful, wolflike jaws around Valam’s hand. Screaming in agony, Valam dropped to his knees. Adrina closed her eyes and squeezed them together as tight as she could. She waited for the screaming to stop and when it did, she felt compelled to open her eyes. She was just as surprised as Valam obviously was to find he still had a hand.

  Erravane, clearly no longer human, spoke with an otherworldly voice. “I said, ‘no movement.’ Do listen more carefully.” Erravane licked her front paw.

  Valam spoke again, but took care not to move. “What do you hope to gain from this? Prince William will kill the lot of you as soon as he has no need for you?”

  “Ah, but I ensure that he continues to need me until I have all that I want for. And, now I have you. His precious little bargaining pieces. He will grovel on his knees to get you back.”

  Chapter Ten:

  Conquest

  The first shafts of golden light from the new day were just breaking the horizon far to the east. A wet spray blew in off the sea, and Keeper Martin shivered. He had awoken early and only he and the mid-watchmen greeted the new day.

  A troubled dream had disturbed his few hours of precious sleep. Keeper Q’yer’s response to his earlier dream message had been grimmer than he ever imagined it could be. Quashan’ was under siege. How five hundred defenders held the city was beyond his imagining. But there had been more distressful tidings in the dream, and this, Martin didn’t even want to think about.

  The sound of footsteps caused Martin to turn. He eyed Captain Adylton who looked as frazzled as he felt. “You did not sleep well this night?”

  “I did not sleep,” answered the captain as he stared out across the dark waters.

  Martin asked pointedly, “How many days to Quashan’ without the Foot?”

  Captain Adylton raised an eyebrow. “Two days of hard riding, and only if we can get enough fresh horses in Alderan City. Otherwise, three at best.”

  “How long would it take for the Foot to catch up?”

  “Foot soldiers move like sand caught in those waves,” Adylton said, eyeing the frothy surf breaking against the rocks. “Depending on the weather, I’d say seven days.”

  “At best?”

  “Six, maybe five. They’d arrive spent and—” Captain Adylton broke off, apparently he heard the footsteps as Martin did. Both men turned to see who was approaching.

  “Mid-watchman,” Keeper Martin said. “He’s been hawking me since I stepped out here.”

  Captain Adylton regarded the watchman, then tossed Martin a wink. “My man… My men,” he said, waving his hand in a sweeping gesture around the camp.

  “And
Trendmore’s?”

  “I gave his watchmen liberty. Told them to enjoy the Free Cities.”

  Keeper Martin tightened his cloak about him. “Then you’ve gone ahead. Are you ready?”

  “Nearly so. It should all go smoothly. Better than half of his men are on liberty and he isn’t the wiser… Have you received word from Alderan or has something happened in Quashan’?”

  “You, Captain Adylton, are very perceptive.” Martin explained about the dream message and the situation in Quashan’. Adylton grimaced. “So you see,” Keeper Martin concluded, “there is precious little time to waste.”

  “What of Alderan? You didn’t say. Did the ship arrive safely?”

  Keeper Martin fixed eyes filled with distress on the captain. “Alderan is no more.”

  “Surely you don’t mean—” Adylton began. Martin nodded solemnly. “—And, Prince Valam?”

  Martin said nothing.

  Martin was sure Captain Adylton was going to collapse. The captain’s knees bowed and his face became ashen. Martin grabbed the captain’s shoulders to steady him.

  Captain Adylton turned to face the salty spray of the breaking waves. He was silent for a long time. Yet it was clear he was slowly recovering his wits as anger and finally resolve seemed to replace disbelief. “What of the sea?” Captain Adytlon asked. “We could send the foot soldiers by ship down the coast… Better still, up River Trollbridge. In autumn the rivers run high. No deep-hulled ships, but still, with the right winds and heavy oars, they could land within a day’s march of Quashan’.”

  An incomplete smile eased Martin’s downtrodden expression. “You, my friend, have never bargained with free traders. It’ll take a king’s ransom to pay for passage… Still, the plan is not without merit.”

  “Let me untie her. You must untie her,” pleaded Adrina, “she is in obvious pain.”

  Do not worry unnecessarily, whispered the pleasant feminine voice in Adrina’s mind. I will journey to Great-Father, but it will not be at the hand of the likes of this.

  “Enough,” snapped Erravane. “My patience is at an end. You will now tell me where the boy is.”

  The first rays of a new day pierced the thick canopy overhead, casting odd shadows about the forest floor. Erravane turned toward the light. Suddenly and swiftly, Valam lunged at Erravane, but, just as swiftly, one of Erravane’s beasts leapt upon him and knocked him to the ground. Afterward, it stood defiantly upon Valam’s chest, staring down at him, a deep rumbling growl escaping its throat. Adrina shuddered and edged closer to Emel.

  “My pets are hungry—” Erravane reverted to human form as she spoke, her voice losing its otherworldly hue. “Do they feast on a boy or one of you? The decision is yours, but do not take too long to decide.” There was anger on her face, mirrored in her eyes. She walked in a wide circle around Valam, staring down at him.

  “Which will talk?” Erravane said, pointing her finger at each of the three in turn.

  No one responded.

  “Which will die?”

  When no answer was forthcoming, Erravane said, “If you do not choose, then I will choose.” With a lightning fast snap of her wrists, Erravane wrapped her hands around Adrina’s throat. “I choose the princess.”

  Adrina recoiled; the hands tensed around her throat until it seemed she could not breathe. Terrified, Adrina stared wildly at Erravane. Beside her Valam and Emel attempted to gain to their feet, but one of the Wolmerrelle had likewise leapt upon Emel.

  “Why do you care so about a boy?” Adrina asked, her words coming out through a strained gasp. “Vilmos is long gone.”

  “His name,” Erravane said sinisterly. “Thank you. Now, where did he go?”

  “Home, for all we know.”

  Erravane tightened her grip on Adrina’s throat. Her long, sharp fingernails pierced the skin and drew blood. “That is not the answer I want. I tire of this, and I too hunger for a feast.”

  Straining ineffectively to raise his chest under the weight of the Wolmerrelle, Emel craned his head upward. “Let Adrina go! I will die willingly in her stead.”

  Erravane started to laugh, a deep demented cackle. “So noble, so very noble. What about you, Prince of the North? Would you die for her too?”

  Valam said, “Let them both go and I will do whatever it is you ask.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Stop!” shouted a voice vaguely familiar to Adrina. “You do not know what it is you do. Make no promises to her kind.” Xith emerged from the shadows and stood with his hands extended before Erravane.

  “Watcher,” Erravane said, no surprise in her voice. “Age takes your stealth. You clomp around like a Man. I wondered what it would take to make you reveal yourself, and now I know.”

  “This is no game. What is occurring is of no concern to you.” Xith’s eyes glowed as he regarded Adrina momentarily. Adrina saw strange emotions on his face and there was a quality in his voice that escaped her ears. “Return to Ril Akh Arr and Under-Earth, Erravane.”

  Erravane hissed, then attacked Xith. She knocked him down and stood over him. Xith made no move to defend himself.

  “Attempt your guile of Voice on me again,” Erravane said, “and I will kill you.”

  “Then kill me, Erravane, I grow weary.”

  Erravane hissed again and released Xith’s throat. “You sicken me. All of you sicken me. So willing to die. So willing to sacrifice. Is the will to survive in any of you?”

  Erravane cocked her head as if listening to the wind. “You are too late Watcher. The hunt is joined. Oh, they are joyous!”

  “Vilmos did not kill Rake. It was I who took his head.”

  Erravane laughed again, the same sickly cackle. “I know, which is why I will enjoy their feast all the more.”

  “Return to your forests. Nothing that happens here concerns your kind. You tamper with forces you do not understand.”

  “I will leave in good time, once I have what I came for.”

  “And what is that?” Xith asked.

  Adrina shouted, “Prince William!”

  Xith jumped to his feet. “Is that it, Erravane?... Your appetite has changed.”

  “I already have his child in my womb.”

  Xith laughed. “If you had so precious a cargo you would have returned to Ril Akh Arr… A half-breed child of royal blood no less…” Xith added the Voice at the last, “Let Vilmos go. You do not need him.”

  Erravane pounced on Xith and slashed his face with her fingernails. “I warned you, Watcher. I will kill the boy now.”

  As if stung, Xith reeled away from Erravane. “And if he kills your pets, what then? What will you do then?”

  “He will not.”

  “What if? What then? Would you no longer meddle in affairs that do not concern you?”

  Erravane was obviously irritated at the course of the conversation. “Yes,” she shot back at Xith.

  “Is that a promise?”

  “And if the boy dies, what then?”

  Xith said simply, “I will surrender to your will.”

  “I would have you surrender regardless.”

  “You are far from our realm, further still from the forest temple of Arr. Attempt a test of wills here and you will lose.” Erravane slashed Xith across the face again. Xith held his ground. “If Vilmos survives, you will return to Under-Earth. If he dies, I will do as you bid. I would even help you birth the child if that is your wish.”

  Erravane’s eyes widened greedily. “You would birth an abomination?”

  Xith slowly nodded.

  Erravane grinned. “Your faith in a human child will be your undoing.”

  Quite sure what had awoken him, Vilmos stirred. He had been dreaming of Tabborrath Village but thoughts and dreams all spun away. His eyes were wide, his mind in shock. From not far off came another long wailing cry, joined by more, which were still distant. He had sudden flashbacks to another time in Vangar Forest. He knew with certainty the Wolmerrelle hunted him.

  He cas
t aside the prince’s overtunic. The oversized garment had kept him warm during these past dreary days and chilly nights. Now he needed speed and not warmth.

  Then as he started to flee, he caught a bit of an old memory. Perhaps he could trick the Wolmerrelle just as he knew he could the hounds of Tabborrath’s huntmaster. Without delay, he retrieved the tunic. He dragged it along the ground, then scrambled up into a nearby tree and left the tunic there.

  Then he ran. He had no idea where he ran to, only that he ran away from the howls. The boughs of trees passed as dark blurs around him and as he ran, Vilmos imagined that Xith was beside him and that the shaman urged him to race faster and faster.

  They lead us, whispered an old voice in his mind. He nodded in understanding. He veered right instead of left where the unnerving calls sought to lead him.

  His race became a race of desperation. He ran to escape, only to escape. On and on he raced. He used his hands to ward off branches that seemed to reach out to grab him as he passed. He mounted a rise and started down its backside. There, he found his second wind. The path muddied at the bottom of the rise. He came to a stream, kneeled briefly to drink of its cool waters, then hurried on. The calls were never far off.

  Completely winded, he stopped. Clutching his chest, panting for air, he hunched over. His face, cold despite the perspiration that dripped from his brow, stung where branches had caught his cheeks. He fought to get his breathing under control and bit back the pain of sore muscles.

  Gradually the splotches before his eyes cleared and he brought his breathing under control. He straightened up and looked around, noticing then that the forest seemed suddenly too quiet. His face blank and expressionless, he panned his eyes slowly from left to right.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement and perhaps, a flash of white. Suddenly, the voice of the past was in his mind again, From this lesson stems the basis of your magical shield, the shield that will protect and keep you in dangerous times…