Kelven's Riddle Book Two

by Daniel Hylton

  He eased down out of sight, motioning to Durlrang to join him, and went to the side nearest the road, hoping that one of the lashers might say something as the army passed to give him a sense of its purpose. But in the hour or so that it took the marching soldiers to pass his position, not a word was spoken by anyone. There was only an eerie, overriding silence, underscored by the muted thunder of many boots striking the ground. Gray men, evidently, were not like their near cousins, humans, who could not move en masse without at least a measure of discourse, raucous or otherwise.

  He would have to go look at Flat Butte for himself, and trust Alvern to see as well if there was any sinister or indicative behavior. As badly as he wanted to cross the valley and go on into the south, it would have to wait until he knew the intentions of this army and their comrades at the fortress.

  After the army passed, he went back to Thaniel and together, he and the horse and the wolf went around the wild northern slope of Burning Mountain. To the north, the mountain’s flanks were rougher and more elongated. At its lower elevations, the mountain dissolved into a long ridge, running northward into the wild land between it and the distant field from which Aram and Decius had made their escape.

  When they turned east, across this ridge, there began to be more trees, the fringes of the forest where, two years earlier, they had killed four lashers and freed Ruben and Semet. Aram eased far enough to the north that, if the logging operation was ongoing, which he doubted since the fortress was finished, they might not be discovered. Once into the trees at the fringes of the green hills, they eased southward, toward the butte.

  The logging operation had, in fact, been abandoned. Brush filled the open area where the logs had once been loaded for transport, and the road leading south out of the clearing appeared unused; small trees were pushing up through the tracks – in time the forest would reassert itself. The sun had dropped behind the bulk of the mountain, but the day was two or three hours from being spent, so Aram rode Thaniel south along the road until they could see Flat Butte, jutting up out of the plains to the southeast of the mountain.

  Once again, he left Thaniel in the shelter of a small ravine, much to the annoyance of the horse who felt like he was being excluded because of his size, which was exactly true – because of his massive frame, the ability to employ stealth could not be counted among his attributes. After leaving the horse, Aram and Durlrang slipped to the south along the edge of the road. There was ample brush and they were able to move along unseen but they did encounter several snakes, although Durlrang’s keen senses kept any of the encounters from causing mischief.

  The gates in the north wall of the fortress were open and in the deepening dusk Aram could see figures milling about inside.

  Alvern was still in the sky.

  “Are those men inside the fortress the same that passed us on the road?” He enquired of the eagle.

  “No, Lord Aram. There is a fork in the road just to the west of the butte. The men from the road took the southern fork and went around to the rows of huts on the plains to the south.”

  “And the men inside?”

  “They appear to be preparing to leave.”

  “For war?” Aram asked in alarm.

  “I do not know. The sun sets, Lord Aram – I must find a place to stay the night.”

  “Watch them early on the morrow, my friend – please.”

  “I will arise at dawn.”

  Night fell, and Aram and Durlrang went back up the road to the north, walking in the open track, and collected Thaniel, and then went into the woods to the east of the clearing for the night. At dawn, they were back on the road on the eastern flank of Burning Mountain, watching the fortress for indications of the intentions of the men and lashers inside.

  About an hour after sunrise, a long column of men, commanded by lashers, poured from the gates, turned and went west out of their sight. It took nearly an hour for them all to clear; it seemed to Aram that there were many more than a thousand. Aram could not see whether they continued west down the valley containing the dry lake or circled around to the south of the butte toward the east – toward Derosa.

  “Lord Alvern?”

  “They go west, down the valley road, Lord Aram.”

  “How many are there?”

  “This number is equal to those that arrived yesterday at least once, and easily twice, and perhaps yet again.”

  Aram frowned at that. Three times the number of men that had arrived the day before had now left the fortress, heading west, away from Derosa. As much as this information cheered him, it puzzled him as well. Why would they do this? Did Manon have problems on other frontiers? Were his forces still so thin and widely scattered that he had to move a small occupying force into the fortress so that its larger counterpart could be called away and into duty elsewhere? He looked skyward.

  “Lord Alvern, the men that arrived yesterday – what are they doing now?”

  “They appear to have settled into quarters, my lord.” The eagle answered. “Some have gone eastward toward the river on patrol, and some have gone into the fields around the living quarters to oversee the slaves that tend the crops. The rest do nothing.”

  Aram thought about it for a moment. Derosa, evidently, was not under immediate threat. Therefore, by all appearances, his plan to see as much of the world that surrounded his lands need not be deferred.

  “We are going back to the west, Lord Alvern, through the hills north of the dry lake. We will make certain that the larger army is indeed quitting these lands. Sometime tomorrow or the next day, we will find a way to cross the valley and go into the south.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Aram, Thaniel, and Durlrang went back around the northern slope of Burning Mountain, across the ridge and into the hills that stretched westward along the fringe of the valley containing the dry lake. Across the valley to the south, they could easily see the dust cloud raised by Manon’s departing army, and track the army’s progress. Throughout that day and the next, the army showed no sign of turning back to threaten his friends in Derosa.

  That night they camped by the same small spring where they had camped a few days earlier, in a clump of cedars. Alvern settled on a high, rocky peak to the north. As Aram was eating a cold breakfast the following morning, Alvern’s voice came down out of the morning sky.

  “There is a heavy mist over the plains to the northwest again, Lord Aram. Did this ever occur in the days of your youth?”

  Aram thought about it. There had been fog on occasion when he was a boy on the plains near the marsh, but it had usually been preceded by storms, or as Alvern had suggested, a season of spring floods. But this was early summer, and as it had been for more than a week now, the sky overhead was clear and hard as brass with the promise of only bright blue sky and summer heat later in the day. It had not rained in weeks, and surely the snows in the mountains that fed the rivers of the plains had melted and run down long ago.

  “Are there clouds above the mist – or to the east or west?”

  “No.” The eagle’s answer came immediately. “There is only the mist, low, dark, and thick – it obscures the ground.”

  “This mist troubles you, does it not, Lord Alvern?”

  “Yes, because it is odd; it does not seem to me that it belongs in the world of daylight.”

  “And you can not discern its cause?”

  “No.”

  That day they traveled back west along the northern shoreline of the dry lake and into the higher hills – almost mountains – that lay in a large triangular area between the plains to the north, the unknown valley to the west and northwest, and the vast green land to the south. They camped in a narrow, steep-sided ravine with a small stream that flowed to the west. Aram and Durlrang once again crept forward to watch the road that led through the gap between the hills toward the northern plains.

  Toward evening, a column of ten wagons, accompanied by a small group of gray men and a dozen lashers, moved northwestw
ard through the gap and went out into the unknown valley. Aram could not see into the gloomy interiors of the transports, but these wagons resembled those in which he and his fellow slaves had been taken to the east all those years ago. No sounds emanated from the unseen occupants as he watched them move past and fade from sight in the deepening evening. The sky to the northwest, along the horizon looked clear. He turned away and went back up the ravine to rejoin Thaniel.

  “Is there still a mist over the plains, Lord Alvern?” He asked.

  “No, my lord. It dissipated a few hours ago.” The eagle came down and lit on a crag nearby. “It seems to me that it must have come out of the great marsh, for it faded there last.”

  Aram looked at him. “And you think that it is significant?”

  The great bird stretched out his wings and shifted his weight, finding a more comfortable perch. “I was just thinking about the creature we witnessed flying above the marsh a week ago. Perhaps it is connected to the mist?”

  “Maybe.” Aram shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Why would it matter?”

  “It probably does not, my lord. But in the times in which we live, anything odd deserves consideration.”

  Aram nodded as he opened his pack. He frowned up at the eagle as Durlrang slipped into the night to find supper. “Have you eaten today, Lord Alvern?”

  “Not today. I will find something in the morning.”

  “Are there no larger streams about?”

  “None large enough to sustain fish.”

  Aram looked into his pack and found some of the dried meat. “Can you eat dried venison, my friend?”

  The great bird laughed, the sound ringing like tinkling crystal in Aram’s mind. “I will not starve, my lord. Do you want to go south in the morning?”

  Aram nodded. “I want to go south, yes.”

  “I will watch for you. The army from the fortress is still far to the east and not much else uses that road. When the way is clear, you and the horse and wolf may cross the narrow part of the valley to the west of the dry lake. There is but a mile of open ground there. Beyond there is a broad area of wooded hills that run to the south between Elam and the plains of Wallensia. You can easily move undetected there. After you are safely across the valley and into those hills, I will go to the river to eat.”

  “Elam – is that what the green land to the south is called?”

  “Yes, my lord, except that the land of Elam officially begins further south, beyond the narrows, past the gates. Have you never heard of it?”

  Aram nodded his head. “I have. The seamen that brought the steel to Durck talked of it once.”

  The eagle lowered his head into the folds of his tucked wings. “It is a broad, rich land, my lord. It runs for five hundred miles southward to the sea. There are two great cities that lie along the river that flows through its heart and three more, even greater cities upon its coasts.”

  “Is Elam under the heels of Manon, or is it free?”

  “His lashers are there, and there are men allied with him who dwell in that land. He has not subjugated it but he does demand tribute, and it is paid. Lately, I have been told that he has begun demanding tribute of their daughters as well.”

  “And is that tribute also paid?”

  “Yes.”

  Aram stared at the eagle and his thoughts went to the gloomy wagons in the valley behind him, trundling even now toward the north. “What kind of people give up their children?”

  “Indeed.” The eagle answered simply.

  Aram watched him. “Where did you get this information, my friend? Are there hawks here in this land that are in alliance with you?”

  “All hawks answer to me – and thus to you, my lord – but there are eagles here as well. I have both a sister and a son that dwell beyond Elam near unto the sea, in the iron mountains of Vergon. I saw them seldom in years past, but I have talked much with them lately.”

  “I am glad to hear it.” Aram nodded. “How many lashers are among the people of Elam?”

  “Many, not enough to subdue the land.”

  Durlrang appeared out of the deepening evening, carrying the carcass of a rabbit in his mouth. He dropped it near the crag and looked up at Alvern. “You may share my supper, Lord Alvern, if you wish.”

  Aram gazed at the wolf, stunned, as did Alvern. Even Thaniel stopped grazing and stared.

  The eagle dropped down to the ground and faced Durlrang, who sat back on his haunches. “A chieftain of the wolf people offers me food. These are strange times, indeed.”

  Durlrang gazed back at him steadily. “If you wish to share this rabbit, Lord Alvern, perhaps Lord Aram will separate it for us?”

  The wolf turned and looked at Aram. Aram nodded, still astonished at the actions of his ancient friend, and drew his knife, cutting the carcass into two pieces. Alvern took the smaller piece and flew back up to the top of the crag; Durlrang sat on his haunches and began to consume the other. As Aram walked back toward his bedroll, Thaniel swung his great head around and looked at him.

  “The world ever changes in your presence, Lord Aram. Wolves share their meals with eagles – just wait until my father hears of it.”

  Aram grinned and sat down on his bedroll, laying his bow and his steel sword aside, and positioning the sheath of the sword of heaven so that it would not lie beneath his body, preventing sleep. Then he lay back, gazing up at the stars just now beginning to appear in the deep blackness overhead.

  Twenty Six

  After a while Durlrang came over and stretched out near him.

  “Are you still awake, master?”

  “Yes.”

  “There is a mist again tonight.” Aram sat up and the wolf continued. “I came back to camp along the top of the ridge to the north after I found the rabbit. The stars above the western horizon do not shine. I believe that there is a mist building again tonight.”

  “What does it mean, Durlrang – this mist?”

  “I do not know. I think the flying creatures cause it – but I don’t know how, or why.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Durlrang.” Aram lay back and thought about the possible significance but could make nothing of it and gave up as sleep came. As he drifted off, he turned his thoughts to Ka’en, waiting for him in Derosa. He wished that the summer had ended, that his plans had all been executed and winter lay over the land so that he could be with her in peace, her gentle, warm body next to his in the night.

  Durlrang’s cold wet nose nudged him awake. Sensing the wolf ’s urgency, Aram came to attention, sat up and looked around, listening. The night was deep and still. He focused on the phantom shape of the wolf, a dark shadow in the darker night. “What is it?”

  “Something comes, my lord.”

  Aram rose to a crouch, repositioned the sword of heaven, slipped his bow over his head and drew his steel sword. He gazed about him into the darkness.

  “What comes?”

  “I do not know, master – something large.”

  “From which direction does it come, Durlrang?”

  The wolf turned and gazed westward down the hollow with his nose lifted. “From the west – above the earth.”

  “It flies?”

  “Yes.”

  Durlrang crouched until his belly was against the ground and moved closer to Aram with his gaze still fixed on the triangle of starry sky above the ravine. Thaniel came up as well, also looking to the west and Alvern dropped down from his rocky crag and hopped nearer.

  Aram could hear and see nothing. He stood and stared at the western sky, black, full of stars. A mile or so away, beyond the mouth of the ravine, across the narrow valley through which ran the road, black teeth of the opposing hills jutted into the sky, swallowing stars. Aram fixed his gaze on the night sky above those black hills and waited.

  Above the distant hills, stars winked out, their fires extinguished by an area of rapidly spreading darkness. The area of darkness grew and more stars failed from the sky. Something was flying in the bla
ckness of night, and it was coming, straight up the ravine. Over to the right, above the ridge, another star-eating region of darkness appeared and it also grew, just as rapidly.

  Through the deep stillness of night a sound arose, distant, low, and complex, like the humming of a million approaching locusts – but locusts of enormous size and ferocity.

  “Move.” Aram hissed. “Get over to the right, near the rocks.”

  Quickly, they stumbled through the darkness across the rough, rocky depths of the ravine until they had moved into the shadow of the small cliff above which Alvern had earlier made his perch. There was a grove of stunted cedars and they crowded into this limited cover as best they could. Aram put away his steel sword and moved his right hand to grasp the hilt of the sword of heaven. Before drawing it however, he instinctively reached to his belt for the hood and slipped it over his head. Then he replaced his hand on the hilt, but left the weapon sheathed. Perhaps if nothing was done to draw attention, they could avoid discovery by whatever it was that came.

  The humming grew louder, and deepened in pitch. Though it was dark night and the sword would probably not spout fire, it would undoubtedly sing; he kept his hand on the hilt but for the moment resisted the growing urge to draw it forth. He felt pressure building in the atmosphere, as if the air about him had been placed under tremendous strain by the approach of a powerful storm front.

  And he felt something else – a presence. Dark, malignant, evil, it filled the ravine like the foul waters of a flood.

  The humming grew; the pressure increased until it was unbearable. Aram felt as if his skull would fracture and Durlrang, pressed up hard against his leg, convulsed uncontrollably.

  Overhead, the stars went out.

  The humming became a roaring, the atmosphere cracked under the strain. Aram put his hands over his ears and went to his knees, his brain numb with sudden pain, fighting to remain conscious. Durlrang whined involuntarily and Thaniel dropped as if struck by lightning. Alvern fell to the grass and lay unmoving.