by Narro, B. T.
“I knew it.” Peter threw up his fist.
Disappointed with herself, Reela shook her head and sighed, though her smile lingered. “You’ve got the heart of a poet yet the grace of a cat in heat. It’s never going to work.”
“Confidence and persistence, my lady.” Peter stirred his oatmeal. “I don’t need grace when I can meow all night.”
“Jek,” Cleve said. “What did Micah say about what we saw?”
“He, Raymess, and Tobkin went to look for themselves. They’ll let us know after breakfast.”
“What did you see?” Reela asked.
“Something moving that looked like wooden poles as tall as the trees. It was coming from the north,” Cleve said. “Couldn’t tell exactly what it was.”
“Siege weapon,” Calvon said with certainty. “Maybe more than one. How far away was it?”
“About a day’s walk,” Cleve answered.
“We’re going to be asked to investigate it,” Jek said.
“Why us?” Calvon dropped his spoon against his bowl with a clank.
“Because I volunteered.”
Calvon glared at him. “You what?”
“No matter what it is, it can’t be good for our army,” Jek argued. “If we can stop it before it gets here, then I want to be there. I might be able to burn down whatever the object is.”
“So go with psychics.” Calvon threw up his hands petulantly.
“They’ll come, too.” Jek motioned at Cleve and Reela. “Maybe even Klaiya.”
“Forget it,” Calvon said. “You don’t need me, then.”
“We need your scouting skills the most!” Jek argued.
“If they’re really moving siege weapons, there’s going to be thousands of them. You won’t need a scout. You’ll need an army.”
Someone was shouting Jek’s name. Cleve turned around to find Micah searching as he shouted with his hands cupped over his mouth. Jek stood and shouted back. “Over here.”
“We didn’t see anything.” Micah spoke with urgency as he came to their table. “Do you and Cleve still remember where you saw whatever it was?”
“We do,” Jek answered without looking at Cleve. The young man was determined, though Cleve still didn’t quite understand why. “We would like to investigate. Calvon believes it may be a siege weapon, maybe more than one. If we have a chance to destroy or damage them while we’re there, we should.”
“A psychic should go with you, as well as an officer—one who’s been here longer than you, Jek.”
But Jek was shaking his head. “I trust myself and our group more than any officer. Reela and Vithos can be our psychics. I trust them as well.”
“We’re either sending an army or no more than four,” Micah said. “And we’re not ready to send an army until we know more about what you saw. If you won’t take an officer, then you, Calvon, Cleve, and Vithos will go. A scout, mage, archer, and psychic, the strongest four we have of each.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Calvon stood. “I’m sure I’m not the strongest scout, Cleve’s a swordsman not an archer, and isn’t Klaiya stronger with psyche than Vithos…who can’t even communicate with us fluently!”
“There’s no need to be humble,” Micah said. “We know your scouting skills are among the best. And Klaiya told us Vithos is the strongest psychic of all of them. She cannot lie to us.”
“What about Cleve?” Calvon looked at him apologetically. “I don’t mean to insult you, but Peter must be a better archer. He’s very skilled.”
“And I don’t mean to insult you, Peter,” Micah said, still speaking with haste. “But however skilled you are, Cleve is better.”
Peter leaned back, raising his palms in front his shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. I’m happy not walking into thousands of enemies.”
Cleve changed his mind. The moment Micah complimented him, he couldn’t let others go in his stead unless he knew they exceeded his skill. Jek was right to volunteer. He was the strongest mage. Cleve should’ve had the same determination from the start. Whatever they found, they would handle it better than anyone else.
“If they’re preparing for an attack, we need to find out as soon as possible,” Micah urged. “Where’s Vithos?”
Reela stood. “I’ll get him.”
“I’ll need a bow,” Cleve said. “And a tunic.”
“We’ll have everything the four of you need by the exit. Meet there as soon as you can.”
The moment Micah left, Calvon glared at Jek. “Why are you so adamant about going?”
“Because we’re the best for the task,” Jek said. “If you want to be an officer, you should start acting more like one.”
Peter whistled tauntingly.
Calvon’s cheeks flushed as his eyes burned with rage. “Are you too stupid to see how dangerous this is?”
“No,” Peter answered for him. “Just too arrogant to care.”
Jek smiled in agreement, and the anger drained from Calvon’s face. He shook his head as he let out a defeated chuckle. “You sure make it easy to remember you’re seventeen. If you keep this up, you won’t reach twenty.”
Chapter 26:
CLEVE
After a surprisingly unemotional goodbye with Reela, for she had confidence he would return unharmed, Cleve got ready to leave. Jek and Calvon agreed that they should go on foot, as it was too difficult to navigate a horse through the forest and impossible to do so quietly.
Vithos’ mouth was stuck in a wide grin as they descended the mountainside. “I asked Baylee she want sex,” he told Cleve.
“Vithos, you’re doing this wrong—”
“She said yes.”
“She what?”
“She said yes.”
Jek and Calvon were ten steps ahead in the middle of their own conversation, one probably of far more importance than what Vithos wanted to talk about.
“You shouldn’t just ask women if they want sex,” Cleve explained.
“Krepps ask their mates if they want sex. But Humans and Elves do sex before marry. So if I can’t ask, then how it ever happen?”
“You should also stop saying the word so often.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s better if you talk to Reela about it when we get back.” Cleve was no expert on courtship, and he was quickly tiring of the topic.
At the end of the clearing, Jek and Calvon waited. “We need to stay together in the forest,” Calvon said. “And be quiet so we can listen for skunks. They might be closer than we think.”
Watching Calvon speak to them seriously was like watching a child fold his arms stubbornly at a parent. If it wasn’t for his stature, Cleve would’ve thought Calvon was no older than fourteen. But he was taller than Jek, and his arms were covered in dark brown hair.
Cleve kept his guard up as they trudged north. They walked hastily in silence for at least an hour, until Cleve noticed movement ahead and pointed. “See that?”
“Get behind the trees before they see us,” Calvon said. “We’ll wait for them to pass, then attack if they’re skunks.”
They separated and moved behind the trees, ready to surround their enemies. Cleve took the bow from his shoulder and latched an arrow to its string. He’d left his own bow in the palace after Fatholl convinced him he wouldn’t need it until later. The moment Cleve had seen the forest, he realized Fatholl was right. The trees made long-distance shooting irrelevant. He would be using a short bow while he was here.
The crunch of footsteps came closer. Cleve pressed his back against the bark, taking a slow breath to ease his nerves. As the men passed by, Cleve slowly eased out, careful not to make a sound as he pulled back his string.
But then he saw their tunics were the color of fresh grass. These were frogs. Letting down his arrow, his breath became steady once again. He looked across their backs at Jek and Calvon on the other side, their shoulders slumping as the tension fell out of their bodies. The frogs continued south, wearily dragging their feet, not even real
izing Cleve and the others were there.
It was somber watching them go in silence. There was nothing to say to the tired allies. They’d spent all night in the forest. Rest and food were all that they hoped for in that moment.
Calvon motioned with his head for them to continue, and so they did. Cleve looked back at the frogs going the opposite way. One man must’ve heard them and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were half open, his tired flat mouth practically begging for sleep, food, or death. Cleve wondered how long the poor man had been here, how long all of them had been here.
The curiosity was out of his mind by the next breath he took, though he was sure it would resurface the next time he saw the same expression of utter exhaustion.
“Are you sure the poles you saw were coming south?” Calvon whispered.
“Yes,” Jek answered.
“They’re going to be difficult to find.”
“That’s why we have the best scout,” Jek said.
Calvon merely sighed.
When they left and no one inquired about bringing food, it occurred to Cleve that he wouldn’t be eating lunch that day and probably not any other day he was here. Even if they caught an animal, he was sure they couldn’t take time from their task to make a fire and cook it. He held his stomach in a silly attempt at preparing for the pain of hunger.
The next few hours made Cleve weary. It was difficult to maintain focus when no sound or sight ever repaid his efforts. Vithos, with a distant gaze and a smile of content, wore the same expression of reverie every time Cleve looked over. How long would his dalliance with Baylee keep him this way? We should’ve brought a psychic who wasn’t so distracted.
As a test, Cleve stared at Vithos and shouted at the Elf in his mind, screaming for him to look over.
Vithos’ face immediately twisted as if he’d been slapped. “What?”
“Try to pay more attention to our surroundings.”
“It’s difficult. I should not asked Baylee for sex before this.”
Jek and Calvon turned. “Is that the pretty Elf that kissed you?” Calvon asked.
Vithos smiled again, his face taking the same expression as before. “Yes.”
“You asked her for—?”
“Let’s not get into it now,” Cleve interrupted Calvon.
“Well, at least tell me what she said.”
“She said yes,” Vithos answered proudly.
“If it’s that easy, maybe I’ll ask one of the women.” Although Calvon’s tone was serious, Cleve figured he was joking.
At least he hoped so for Calvon’s sake.
They walked the next few hours in silence, Cleve trying to ignore his gnawing hunger, which seemed to attack in bursts.
“If we’re going in the right direction, then we have to see them soon,” Calvon said. He slowed their pace, considering each opening between trees. “Or we’ve already passed them.”
They walked farther while birds screeched and flies buzzed. Calvon turned to the right and stopped, squinting while craning his neck.
“It looks like a path was made over there,” he whispered. “Stay quiet.”
The dirt was moist and soft, making no sound beneath their feet. But the plants in their way rasped in complaint as Calvon shoved them down with his feet.
Cleve spun to check every direction. He found nothing.
Just before emerging onto the open path, Calvon stopped them once again, holding out his arms. He listened.
Nothing.
“Vithos, can you sense anyone?” Calvon asked.
“No one near us.”
“Check the ground for tracks,” Calvon said. “Men came through here, though I don’t know if it was today.”
They dispersed and walked in circles with their gazes on the ground. Cleve felt like a dog trying to pick up a scent. There was great space between trees while dead leaves were pressed into the dirt. He crouched to look for footprints but found nothing.
“Over here,” Calvon called softly. “Look. See how the leaves are pressed more around here?”
Cleve looked closely and, once again, saw nothing. Jek and Vithos didn’t seem to see anything, either.
“These are wheel tracks that run south,” Calvon said. “They must’ve been made by something heavy. I can only think of siege weapons.”
“Weapons?” Jek asked. “As in, you’re certain there are more than one?”
“Yes.”
Cleve got to his knees and turned his head to look parallel along the ground. “There are two?” he guessed from the slight dips he saw.
“Two, yes,” Calvon said. “We must’ve walked by them to the west. Now we’re behind them.”
“Is there any way to tell how many men there are?” Jek asked.
“Not on this ground. I can’t see footprints here, just the tracks the siege weapons made. It should be safe for us to follow them, as long as we see the skunks before they see us.”
They jogged. Cleve couldn’t follow the slight depressions, yet the enemy’s path was still clear—wherever the flat ground remained wide between trees.
Cleve’s legs didn’t tire and his breathing remained steady. But his head felt light and unfocused. Striped shadows created by the evening sun, mixed with his hunger, made studying the distance difficult. It felt like he was trying to look through fog.
“How far to the bunker?” Vithos asked. “It’s dark soon.”
“Too far,” Jek said.
“We have at least three more hours before it’s dark,” Calvon said. “Hopefully the moon will give us light.”
“But we have no food,” Jek complained.
“And?” Calvon asked.
“I mean…I guess I don’t know what I mean.” Jek let out a sigh. “Let’s just go as quickly as we can. We only need to confirm what’s coming toward the bunker.”
“It’s pretty clear by now that it’s an army with siege weapons preparing to attack either tonight or tomorrow. But what we don’t know is how many and what kind of siege weapons.”
When they started into a jog again, Cleve’s hunger became intense. His stomach growled loudly. It felt like an insufferable little girl was clawing him with her nails from within.
After they passed through a ray of sun, Calvon stopped quickly and cupped a hand over his eyes. He cursed and pushed the three of them out of the path to get behind the trees. “I saw them.”
Fatigue caused Cleve’s vision to blur. He’d given one quick look and saw nothing but shadows and smears of green, but he trusted Calvon.
“We’ll follow them, but from the side,” Calvon said. “Stay as quiet as you can. Cleve, shut that stomach up.”
“Wish I knew how.”
By the time Calvon stopped them again, the whole forest was a sea of shadow. Cleve heard voices and the sounds of boots through the wall of shrubbery between them and the skunks. “One person should sneak over for a look,” Calvon said in a nervous voice.
“I’ll go,” Cleve volunteered. His stomach hadn’t made a sound recently. The blood rushing through his heart had filled him with nervous aggression, abating his hunger for the time being. He got a nod from Jek and carefully started through the shrubbery.
In the night, the trees were just black pillars. He held onto them for balance as he moved one step at a time, lifting his foot high so he wouldn’t be caught by the leafy plants covering the ground. Twenty paces ahead was the last line of trees before the enemy. The men looked like smaller, stockier trees all pushed together, black as pitch. His heart jumped when he realized how close he would need to get for a good look at their numbers and weapons.
He looked back and whispered loudly, “If I’m seen, run. Don’t try to help me.”
“Got it,” one of his companions whispered, their silhouettes too similar to tell who it was.
The skunks didn’t seem to be moving. Many of them appeared to be seated.
Knowing he was practically invisible while he stood still, Cleve put himself behind a tree and glanced at hi
s enemies. It was too dark to see how many there were, especially when they stretched deep into the forest. But he did see the shapes of what had to be two siege weapons. They were enormous, yet still just below the height of the trees around them. They looked identical. The base and middle were just chunks of black, thick and sturdy. Long rods came up from them. At the apex of each was some sort of sling dangling down.
“I don’t know how many men there are,” he told the others after the slow trip back. “But there’s definitely two siege weapons that seem to have hanging nets for slinging rocks.”
“Can you guess how many you saw?” Jek asked.
“You would have the same chance of guessing as I do. There could be fifty. There could be five thousand.” Cleve wished he could see their faces. Were they worried and eager to leave, or did they feel the same as he did—like they wanted to do as much damage as they could? “I’m fairly confident we can get close enough to shoot a flaming arrow into one of the slings. It’ll catch fire quickly and make at least one of their siege weapons useless.”
“And when either fifty or five thousand—it doesn’t matter—start chasing after us, what then?” Calvon asked rhetorically. “We can’t run through this dark forest in hopes of escaping.”
“We can,” Cleve corrected him. “Vithos can slow them with psyche, and Jek can light our path.”
Jek’s voice came from the shadow of his body. “We know how to get back, Calvon. You’ve done your task. Start going back and we’ll meet you at the bunker before sunrise.”
“Is that an order or something?” Calvon asked spitefully.
“It’s an option.”
“You can shove that option back down your throat. If you’re set on this, then I’ll stay and do what I can. Just don’t expect me to stop and fight them off with my sword.”
“No one stop,” Vithos said. “We run. I pain men that chase. We get far.”
“Fine,” Calvon said, swinging the bag off his shoulder. He took out the cloth strips they’d brought and handed one to Cleve.
“I’ll take two,” Cleve corrected him.
“The more cloth you wrap around the arrowhead, the harder it’s going to be to shoot,” Calvon warned him.
