The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  Sef agreed. “My guess is whatever left those long footprints by the water.”

  Anton nodded. “Probably, but we can’t be certain.”

  Matraia tried to keep moving, but her limping was becoming more pronounced. Her breathing also strained.

  Sef looked at her, one of her legs covered in blood from grazes and cuts around her knee, the other also red from an assortment of wounds. Watching her, he could see she was at the end of her strength, her body betraying her determination to keep going.

  She needed to rest.

  The roar of tumbling water again came to them, rumbling and echoing up the dark road. Was it another chasm or some other obstacle ahead?

  For now they had a lead on the beasts following them, if the creatures still were. And that might allow them a short break, which was something all of them needed, not just the birdwoman.

  Sef watched a shiver run across her body, shaking her flesh. She was so tired and focussed on getting one foot in front of the next that she didn’t even notice.

  She might need to stop, but it would be best if they could first see what lay ahead in case it blocked their way. He decided to push on, just a little further, until they could see what the rush of water heralded. If it would not hinder them, they would take the opportunity to rest, at least briefly.

  The road continued its gentle descent. Barely visible, at the limits of their illumination, Sef could see rubble of another cave-in piled along the sidewall and then covering much of the roadway. The foam of gushing water caught their light. The flow came in through a great crack in the sidewall, pooled, then rushed around in front of the mound of rock and rubble before following the decline and disappearing down the tunnel.

  Anton checked on Matraia, her progress now interrupted by stumbles. Her skin was showing a lighter shade of green under Juvela’s blessed light than it had previously; she was growing paler.

  He wondered; was this solely exhaustion, or something else, such as the poison?

  She needed to rest. They all did.

  The three neared the flow, all of them so tired that none bothered to comment on this latest obstacle. The tunnel was full of the roar of the rushing water, which became a constant thunder as it echoed off the walls.

  Sef started to pick up speed, despite his own weariness, as he covered the last of the distance to the water’s edge.

  The others followed.

  A great crack fractured the sidewall, most likely from movement over the past age. The water spilled down in an angry white flow, pooling behind huge slabs of debris from the cave-in. The flow then ran alongside the rubble before escaping around it and picking up speed as it found the slope, rushing off into the dark. Where the water was at its deepest, immediately by the cascading fall, the depth looked to be up to Sef’s waist, but the flow there was at its slowest.

  Exhausted, Sef looked to his fellow travellers. “Let’s see what is on the other side. These rocks may give us some protection, the flow too strong to pass for a beast with great bulk and one that’s lower to the ground.”

  Anton studied the flow with tired eyes. “It may be too deep and swift, even for us.”

  “We need to pass it in any case.” With a tip of his head, he indicated where the flow raced around the pile of rocks, the barrier forcing it to pass across the full width of the road. “There is no dry ground.”

  Anton nodded. With a resigned sigh he said, “And we can’t go back.”

  “No.”

  Matraia also sighed.

  Sef headed for where the current seemed the easiest, just beside the fall. With a quick check that both of his companions were following, he began to wade in.

  The water was icy cold, but each step came with little surprise. The flow deepened, but the current remained constant, the bottom firm and smooth.

  When the water reached his thighs, and he still had a half a dozen steps to go, he reached back and waved Matraia forward, gesturing for her hand. He said, “We’ll keep you in the middle and all hold on to each other in case there are any surprises ahead.”

  She stepped forward and took his hand, Anton grabbed her other.

  Sef continued.

  The water rose to his waist, and even though the current was gentle, its insistent tug could be easily felt and would take any of them on its way should they slip.

  His boot hit a stone when he had just a few paces to go. At that point, he felt around and knew they had hit the base of the rubble rising in front of them. Carefully, with a hand still out behind to Matraia, he guided them forward as they climbed up the side of the rocks.

  He led Matraia, and once he got onto some dry stone, helped her up and guided her to a place where she could lay down. He then reached for Anton, helping him also climb up the great slabs of stone. As his friend reached a level spot on which to sit, Sef looked back at the flow, where it began to speed up as it headed around the rubble and began its downhill journey. “We’ll rest here a while; it should be safe.”

  Anton nodded, succumbing to his own rising exhaustion.

  The big Flet continued, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep with all this noise, but at least we should be left alone, and that makes trying worthwhile.”

  Anton was already finding a place amongst the rocks and rubble where he could lie down. He said little to Sef, so Sef dropped his own gear and went to help him.

  Nearby, Matraia was already down and asleep with her wings around herself.

  Sef asked his friend, “Are you alright?”

  Anton looked up and gave a quick nod. “I’m just tired. I think everything is finally catching up to me, but I’ll be fine. ”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  But Sef wasn’t sure his friend was telling him everything. Something about his manner exuded more than fatigue and exhaustion, a jittery sense of distraction. “Something is bothering you. I can see it.”

  Anton shook his head but eased his denial before he stopped, swallowed, and finally asked, “Did you see the size of that footprint?”

  Sef realised that his friend, a former inquisitor, someone who had faced death many times and handed it out a good many more, was afraid.

  The big Flet answered, “Of course I did.”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “Terrified, to be truthful, but we have to keep calm or we’ll never make it out alive.”

  “You’re right, but that print was huge, bigger than any that could belong to the vermin-beasts we’ve so far seen.”

  “It’s true. A beast certainly bigger than a dog, and maybe coming close to the size of a...” he shrugged as he grasped for a comparison.

  Anton raised his eyebrows as he waited for his friend to finish his sentence.

  Sef, with a shrug, finally offered up, “...I don’t know, perhaps a cow.”

  “A cow!” Anton hissed.

  “Yes, a cow.”

  “A cow!” Anton repeated with exasperation.

  Sef frowned. “It doesn’t change anything; we’ve still got to get to Kalraith and deliver Juvela’s message. We still have to try, despite whatever works to stop us.”

  Anton slowly nodded and agreed. “Yes.”

  “Will you be alright to sleep?”

  “Yes, I will. I’m tired enough that I think I could sleep through anything.”

  Sef peered into the dark, looking for anything out of place. There was nothing; just more infernal tunnel. He sat down beside Anton. “Let’s hope it’s only the noise you have to sleep through.”

  Anton lay down as Sef began his watch.

  Chapter 19

  -

  Ba Er Kaan

  -

  Ba Er Kaan, The Northcountry

  The road continued on, my legs and back burning after three days of our rising mountain climb. In so many ways, my trek was easier than what Sef and Anton had endured, and I certainly felt safer in the company of the Prince. But that did not make the travel any easier for my body, a body unused to such exe
rtions.

  Still, when I began to doubt that I could complete the journey, the Prince slowed as we approached a bend in the high cliff-hugging road. He stopped and said, “We are here. Ba Er Kaan is after this turn.”

  I sighed with relief. “Good, my legs are sore and heavy.”

  He nodded, a smile creasing his broad face. “In coming days you will see things that will conjure up many questions, some may even stir fears. Feel free to ask of them, but remember our purpose in being here.”

  I nodded. “To learn the truth of my purpose.”

  “And to prepare.”

  “I am ready.”

  With a sad smile, he then turned back to the road and began to walk on. I followed.

  -

  My gaze drifted from the carved rock face that towered above us on one side, from which the road was cut, to the drop on the other and the huge void that the vista exposed. The Northcountry’s vales spread an unfathomable distance below, beneath a blue sky. The view was breathtaking, yet nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see as I followed my guide around the last bend of the road.

  Ba Er Kaan.

  The road rounded the bend and then continued over a stone bridge hundreds of paces long. A levelled area spread round the road’s end, edged by a ring of tall-standing white stones. Beyond that, a long wall stood blocking entry into a high valley that was nursed tight between towering, snow-capped peaks. A dark opening yawned open at the wall’s centre, where it met the road.

  Buildings climbed past the wall, low towers, all broad and most round. They stood one after the other, heading deeper into the high valley, their colours varied to be that of the greys of the mountain, cloud whites, as well as yellows and oranges. Greenery – a mixture of trees and wild pastures – also showed between the ruins.

  As I looked on, I realised some of those buildings didn’t stand alone, but were carved straight out of the bones of the mountains.

  I kept walking and found my mouth hanging open, as I had no words.

  The Prince slowed and turned to watch my reaction.

  Finally, I managed, “It’s beautiful!”

  He smiled, but it was a sad expression. “Grae ru.”

  “I have seen something similar, in a vision and my dreams, of the city that lays flooded at the bottom of the vale before Marco’s Ruin.”

  “Ba Tel Ora drowned an age ago; Ba Er Kaan was built as a refuge for those who survived and when things began to turn against our kind. This city was supposed to be self-sufficient and defendable. It didn’t work.”

  My own sense of wonder faded, tainted by the tragedy the city represented, not just for the Ogres who had lived here, but for a world half-drowned, and the Prince’s people.

  He turned back to face it and continued. “Come.”

  -

  As we approached the gateway, we could see that the smashed gates were long gone and the way unbarred. Parts of the long wall were covered in ivy, others in lichen and moss. Where the stone still stood fully exposed, it was cracked and weathered. But before it all stood the stone circle.

  The ring of white monoliths – a circle of nine stones evenly spaced – stood five times my height. Their surfaces remained smooth and perfect, and while moss carpeted the ground around them, nothing grew on their faces.

  They were the only part of Ba Er Kaan that seemed ageless.

  The stones were fascinating, causing my steps to slow.

  “Come, Juvela, we must go in and set up camp before nightfall.”

  I nodded, lost for words for what spread around me. Long ago, when we had first arrived at Marco’s Ruin and looked to occupy it, I had been stunned by its expanse and scale. But this was entirely different.

  We passed through the gateway, traversing a tunnel that ran through the thick wall. We then found ourselves in a wide green space, where clovers spread the length of the wall’s back before the ruined buildings of the city started. The area was mostly flat, but with a gentle slope that worked its way up towards each side of the valley. Ahead, a stream wove through the green space and the first of the buildings.

  The Prince led me forward.

  Looking around, I could see that most of the pasture had been a mix of gardens, now overgrown, or open spaces such as for markets or perhaps parade grounds for troops. The further back you went, as you started to reach the buildings, you could see other smaller overgrown yards, some perhaps designed to grow food, some for more meditative pleasures.

  It was amazing.

  Chapter 20

  -

  A Purple Light

  -

  The Varm Carga, the island of Kalraith.

  Sef had felt in reasonable shape for the watch, with no real hurts, and more alert than his companions seemed. Nonetheless, he had also travelled fast and far and was likewise exhausted.

  Despite attempts to rouse himself by pacing and splashing water in his face, or working his way through long ago learnt sword drills, he made the mistake of sitting down while cleaning his blade. Once he did, it was only a matter of time before his watch was endangered.

  Sleep came for him slowly, rising like the tide.

  Sef fought it off after he first dozed, his head nodding and waking him as his dropping chin hit his chest. He stood and paced to wake himself, but again sat to finish servicing his blade. He felt alright, in control, and that there was no need to wake his even more exhausted fellows.

  But that was only sleep’s first raid.

  -

  Sef started awake, a sudden noise rudely dragging him from his sleep. He hissed a curse and stood with his sword before checking over their island of rock and rubble for what might have disturbed him.

  His initial search revealed nothing on their camp of tumbled rock and stone slabs, drawing his eyes to the rushing water, and then beyond to where they had earlier crossed. Nothing. He then let his vision rove along with the flow, first of the remainder of the roadway from where they had come, and then along the adjacent wall, which was mostly lost to shadow.

  And then he saw something.

  Further along the wall, down slope, and where they had yet to pass, a darker patch spoke of an opening hidden by the gloom. It started a step up from a narrow strip of dry road, not far from where the flow rushed past, the water spread out there wide and shallow, but fast. The doorway stood a little taller than a man, one of the sides still clearly finished straight. That made Sef certain that it wasn’t something created by time, but part of the original tunnel workings.

  He was also certain it hadn’t been open when he had settled down.

  Right now, the dark of it gaped empty and silent.

  Sef stepped back beside Anton as he pondered how long they may have already slept. In the end, the answer was irrelevant; they couldn’t stay here now, not if their foes had found a way to get around the obstacles that time and ruin had thrown up.

  It was time to get moving.

  Besides, Sef reasoned, they had to be approaching the way out, surely. He knelt beside his friend and shook him while whispering, “Come now, it is time for us to be off.”

  Anton stirred. “So soon?”

  “I don’t think we’re alone.”

  Anton sat up, his eyes wide. “What’s happening?”

  Sef went across to Matraia and woke her as he said, “A door has opened in the wall ahead, on the other side of the water. I can’t see anything yet, but to be truthful, I dozed off. I think it was a noise coming from it that woke me.”

  Anton couldn’t help but smile as he rose. With a wry voice, he said, “Sleepy head.”

  Sef stretched across and cuffed him. “It was probably your snoring that brought them down upon us.”

  Anton grinned as he drew a knife and looked to find the door. “So you haven’t seen anything besides the opening?”

  Matraia gathered what gear she still had after the drains, which was little but a spare shirt and her empty pack.

  Sef said, “That’s all. There’s been nothing else to
see.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Investigate or fly? I wonder; do you think that it’s definitely vermin?”

  They all stared at the dark opening.

  Anton said, “I assume so, but we can’t say. Why... do you think there may be something else down here?”

  “Opening doors to spy on us sounds a little bit clever, perhaps too clever for such beasts.”

  “Good point.”

  And then their conversation died as a set of big red eyes began to stare at them from out of the dark doorway.

  Sef hissed. “By the gods!”

  Anton added, “Indeed.”

  They heard the hiss and whoosh of something flying through the air before it hit the wall behind them, only to bounce off and land at their feet. Sef ducked, as did Anton, to take cover behind the higher rocks of their rubble island, along with Matraia, but as they did, another whoosh sounded, ending with the birdwoman’s gasp as she dropped to her knees.

  “Are you alright?” Sef asked, grabbing at what had first bounced off the wall to land on the rocks near him. It was a bone dart, the sharp end glistening with a sticky yellow liquid.

  She hissed, “I’ve been hit.”

  Sef felt his guts go cold. The liquid had the same look as the poison that had affected her days ago, delivered by the Kavist knife, back in the foothills. He dropped the dart in front of him and turned to her.

  She knelt behind what rocky cover they had, clutching her upper arm at the bicep where another dart stuck out from her flesh.

  Sef said, “I need to get it out, and quickly.” He was already reaching for it.

  She turned to face him, offering her arm.

  He grabbed at the dart and worked to pull it free.

  The dart held onto her flesh courtesy of a series of small barbs around its head. Nonetheless, it eventually came out, blood welling up from the broken skin.

  Sef examined the dart in the green light, trying to see if any poison stained its shaft. He said, “It was a lucky shot.” He turned it over in his hand. Matraia’s blood marked the head, but there was also a yellow film of gel along half its length.