by S C Gowland
He slowly moved away from the entrance of the cave towards the dense throng of trees and vines, dead leaves and scattered twigs quietly snapping under foot. He looked around, a clear sky littered with stars and two full moons hung overhead, one momentous, grey and looming, the other half its size, red, subtle and half hidden. He chose a stout oak tree and began to climb, slowly, silently moving up its branches with patience and purpose. Making sure he had good foot and hand hold, feeling and remembering each one as he rose. He climbed to a height of about twenty feet, choosing a thick ledge of three branches to make his vantage point. He sat crossed legged and began to look, clocking entry points and assessing the landscape. The evening was crisp and clear, but it carried a chill and Kaoldan pulled his dark crimson cloak closer around his neck, the soft grey fur lining of its hood a comfortable contrast to the cold of the branches.
Being able to set up camp effectively in the corner of a rock face made keeping watch much easier, half the job was done for him. Nothing was coming at them from that direction unless it could survive a 200-foot drop and do so quietly. Perched in his little nest Kaoldan began to think, it had been good to see Kryst again and his presence had settled some nervousness that had gripped his heart and mind the previous night. The group had blended well, not surprising in some respects they had done this before, the inclusion of a new member Yasmina had been easier than he had thought and had gone much better than he had hoped. Yet a fear nagged at him and it was a feeling that he had not been able to shake for some time, it lingered like a familiar unwelcome friend, always there but varying in its presence.
A twig snapped.
Kaoldan’s eyes jerked towards the noise, searching in the darkness, ears sharp.
He waited.
Silence.
Slowly he let out a silent breath and he began to turn his head away.
Another twig snapped.
His head jerked back combing the space below for movement.
Nothing.
Then something, hiding in the shadows of a larger, crooked tree. Slowly it moved, like dark liquid smoothly and silently. It was fairly large given the distance guessed Kaoldan, who stayed perfectly still. It began moving again, sticking to the shadows avoiding the moonlight. Slowly and definitely towards the mouth of the cave.
Kaoldan slowly began to move his legs from his crossed sitting position to a crouch. He reached for his Walkerblade, the metal cold to the touch, he worked it into his hand, grasping the handle firmly. He waited, transfixed on the dark shape below, it kept moving, a bear he wondered. Either way it had to be stopped. Nerves rose from his stomach, but he pushed them back down as he slowly exhaled. Gritting his teeth. he prepared to jump down hoping the shock would scare it off. He took a deep breath and jumped.
He crashed to the floor with a dull thud rolling to his feet Walkerblade in hand, it shimmered green and morphed into a broadsword.
The shadow froze, but did not run.
A pink tongue poked out from behind the shade of the tree.
‘Dref?!?!’ Kaoldan exploded out with a sigh of relief.
The dog rather meekly emerged from the darkness.
‘What the hell, are you doing here?’ he asked raising his arms in frustration and turning away cursing under his breath.
Dref sat down on the floor, surrounded by silver and grey leaves, his eyes smiling and his tail wagging.
Since no answer was forthcoming from the big black dog, Kaoldan turned and collapsed into a silent fit of giggles.
Figuring that this was a good thing, and that all was forgiven, Dref stood and padded over to his master. Kaoldan ruffled the dog’s ears.
‘What are you like?’ he asked shaking his head.
Dref simply sat and absorbed the apparent praise, particularly enjoying his ears being tickled.
‘Well.’ pondered Kaoldan, ‘what are we going to do with you?’
Dref softly whimpered.
‘No way we can go back the way we came just to take you home.’ said Kaoldan. ‘Looks like we’re stuck with you.’
Dref’s ears perked up, and he stifled a bark. Mission accomplished.
Kaoldan shook his head. ‘Do you mind keeping me company for a while?’ he asked. The dog tilted his head puzzled. Kaoldan rose and retreated back into the shadows of the rock face. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, Dref stood and happily followed.
‘I missed you.’ whispered Kaoldan showing uncharacteristic emotion ruffling the dog’s big ears. They settled into a crevice and sat down - both silent, both alert. Not a word was said, nor needed saying.
The next few hours passed without incident the cool night air served to keep the forest clear of mist. They moved vantage point to both help stay awake and make sure that each approach was regularly checked.
At the change of watch Kryst quietly emerged from the cave, he frowned looking at Dref, confusion etched on his face. ‘Where the hell did he come from?’ he whispered perplexed.
‘We’ve already had that conversation.’ explained Kaoldan. ‘Seems we needed another companion and we are lucky that Dref was available and in the area.’ he waved his hands dismissively while Dref sat smugly by Kryst’s feet. Kaoldan shook his head as he headed towards the cave and sleep. He patted Kryst on the shoulder, leaving the confused Walker with his new night watch companion.
Chapter 6 - Trouble
The forest was finally beginning to thin, much to Kaoldan’s relief. The last five days had felt like an eternity, dense thick forest is all well and good, but a change of scenery can do wonders for the human spirit.
They had made good progress heading first north then followed the trail west towards Grihr. Towering trees and rolling hills had gradually given way to smaller, thinner scatterings of trees and the land had flattened out into oceans of swaying grasslands, yellows, greens and soft reds, with smaller islands of trees scattered here and there.
Scouting on ahead of the group Kaoldan surveyed to the left and right, nothing. Good.
A familiar black head popped up from the grassland. Dref had been a constant shadow since he had arrived so unexpectedly on their first night away from Thura. His appearance had become the subject of a continuous joke to the group, mainly led by Zalen. His eyes sparkled wickedly with the opportunity to jest and tease about ‘the magic dog’ that had appeared from nowhere.
Dalon had been his main partner in crime, the two taking great pleasure acting with shock and awe at times when Dref appeared in their company. The joke was beginning to wear a little thin, but Dref was enjoying the attention, nonetheless.
In truth the dog had been something of a blessing. His happy-go-lucky demeanour had immediately made him part of the group and his newest friend, Yasmina had taken something of a shine to him. Although May had looked rather unhappy at the affection lavished upon the dog. He had taken his new role within the group rather seriously and accompanied each member of the group as they had taken turns to scout ahead, today it was Kaoldan’s turn to be joined by their unofficial chief scout. He had helped them avoid unnecessary contact with people twice.
The first a group of royal guards moving between locations, noisily it had to be said, even without Dref’s excellent hearing Kryst had been able to detect them some distance away and the group had been able to circle around unnoticed.
The second encounter had been with a small caravan of traders heading towards Bay Forest. On this occasion Kubrean had met with the traders, chatting away with them laughing and joking like long-lost friends while the group had taken a slightly wider path deeper in the forest out of sight. He had purchased supplies, replenishing meat, bread and cheese.
‘Never underestimate the power of trading with merchants and their willingness to share their gossip and stories with you.’ he had said.
And it had been true, trade was good apparently and there had been limited reports or sightings out of the ordinary. Certainly, no sign of the Krund, more good news.
A strong wind blew in from their left, mak
ing the grass sway and swirl like a rough sea. Dref’s nose rose into the air and he sniffed deeply, shaking his head in confusion then inhaled again. His head darted to the left, looking into the distance. He let out a low gurgling growl, this had the desired effect and Kaoldan looked at the big shaggy dog. Dref bounded through the grass towards Kaoldan who dismounted from Tren. The ground under foot was soft, and the grass popped as he knelt. Dref approach a mournful and concerned look on his face breaking through the grass that threatened to swallow him whole.
‘What is it?’ asked Kaoldan.
Dref cocked his head then looked to the left into the distance and sniffed. Kaoldan semi understood his face creased with concern, there was something and it was not good.
‘Wait.’ he commanded, before vaulting back up onto Tren. He turned and rode off back towards the group, Dref remained a black statue in the sea of grasses.
Zalen was regaling the group with yet another story when Kaoldan finally found them still immersed in the forest.
‘And I ended up winning the hand, 150 gold marks.’ he said triumphantly. ‘Hello Kaoldan.’ he continued. ‘How are you? No magic dog? Or has he vanished and not reappeared yet?’
‘We have a problem.’ announced Kaoldan as he stopped.
Zalen changed, growing slightly in his saddle.
‘It seems the magic dog has caught a scent he doesn’t like.’ said Kaoldan.
‘Bad sausages?’ queried Dalon, face a picture of innocence.
Kaoldan gave him a withering look.
‘I doubt it very much.’ said Zalen reluctantly loosening his round silver shield from its sling. ‘That dog has the unfortunate ability to be able to smell trouble from a distance away, even accounting for bad sausages.’
‘Was that a compliment?’ asked Kaoldan with a grin.
‘Yes, but don’t tell him.’ replied Zalen with a sigh. ‘His head’s quite big enough as it is.’
‘Are we quite finished?’ asked Kubrean looking at the three.
They nodded.
‘The smell seems to be coming from the north west. There is nothing to see and I certainly couldn’t smell anything.’ said Kaoldan.
Kubrean looked thoughtful. ‘That’s the direction of Grihr.’ he said grimly ‘We are still several miles away though. Okay, we take no chances. When we get out of this forest it opens out onto a plain?’ he said.
Kaoldan nodded.
‘Then we split up, presenting less of a target, reducing our profile and widening out our viewpoint; keeping each other in sight at all times.’ he emphasised.
They all nodded beginning to loosen shields and weapons; faces grim.
Yasmina hesitated slightly and visibly turned pale.
‘Don’t worry.’ said Dalon with a wink. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing.’
She nodded, a semi smile appearing on her face, which had regained some colour, her Walkerblade shimmered green morphing into a longsword.
“Not yet.” offered Kaoldan.
She looked at him slightly disappointed.
‘Let’s see what we find first.’ he said reassuringly. ‘Besides, you can see that thing a mile off.’ he gestured to the sword.
She looked at the blade in her hand, rippling with green electricity and then changed it back into a dull black rod.
She turned May and followed in the direction of Kubrean.
Dalon smile evaporated as she looked the other way.
Kaoldan mouthed ‘watch her’ and Dalon nodded, hefting his emerald warhammer. Test swinging the glittering weapon in huge circles helping to loosen out his right arm, a serious expression on his shaggy face now.
‘Let’s go.’ Kaoldan whispered to Tren, the panthera respond just as he had a hundred times before, tensing and seeming to grow.
They turned and followed the others out of the forest. Twisted shaded trees eventually giving way to grassland. They separated out around 100 metres between them, a wave of eyes and ears.
Kaoldan checked left and right alert for signs of trouble.
After a short while Dref came into view, twisting his muscular neck as Kaoldan approached before falling into step alongside Tren.
As they made their way through waving grass, winds continued to blow in from the north west. Worries that had been starting to gnaw at Kaoldan gradually began to subside, his legs feeling less like water began to feel whole again.
Dref growled again.
He glanced to his left, in the distance he saw Kubrean waving, beckoning them over.
Kaoldan swallowed hard, this did not bode well.
He signalled Zalen to his right, the blonde Walker saw the sign and passed it along. Kaoldan turned and approached Kubrean, the grass rustling as Tren sped up to a jog. As he approached, he noticed faint white smoke rising in the distance in front of them, it was light and blended well with the patches of pale clouds on the horizon, Kaoldan swore under his breath.
‘Trouble.’ said Kubrean gazing into the distance, standing in his saddle.
The others arrived a few minutes later. The realisation of what the smoke meant captured on each of their faces.
‘We approach together. Quietly, no fuss, no heroics. We find out has happened and then we leave together.’ Kubrean said hefting his shield. ‘Let’s go.’
***
They entered the small village of Grihr cautiously.
Dalon and Kaoldan led, shields out and weapons at the ready followed by a grim faced Kubrean and Yasmina. Being the most reliable archers, Zalen and Kryst held the rear, bows out and arrows notched. Padded paws allowed the panthera to approach quietly, but the silence felt almost deafening, the rush of the wind through trees and fields the only sound, no birds singing or noise of any other kind, just utter stillness. It felt eerie, making the hairs stand up on the back of Kaoldan’s neck.
As they got closer the village slowly came into view, appearing through partings in the trees. Simple wooden homes at the edge of the town, white structures with smoke damage to doors and windows which were broken, smeared with black. Pens for livestock were smashed and broken, jagged angles of wood pointing in all directions.
Kaoldan became aware that a smell had gradually been building as they approached, it was the unmistakable smell of death.
The first time Kaoldan had smelt it was almost twenty years ago, a small farm on the edges Khawen on the shores of the Midnight Sea. Wild and windy surroundings had blown the smell into a million pieces until he entered the property.
A small farmhouse had contained three bodies, an adult and two small children. The stench had made Kaoldan physically sick and had lingered in his hair and clothes for weeks. He had washed several times, even in freezing waters, to try to remove the smell, but it had endured along with the images vivid in his mind.
In truth they were images that had never left him. Young and idealistic they served as proof to him that Walkers were needed to stop such things happening again. They had never found who had committed the crime, it was the first time Kaoldan’s sense of justice had been punctured. As the years had passed, he had concluded that even Walkers could not stop this from happening everywhere, and today was another example of how cruel the world could be.
Charcoaled fatty pork was the sickly sweet smell that signalled death and judging by the wave of smell that hit him, a lot of it. Ripe and thick it stuck in his nose and throat. Yasmina covered her mouth with her elbow trying hard to ward off the smell with her sword hand.
‘Breath only through your mouth.’ said Kubrean, ‘It helps’.
She smiled at him, face grateful and snorted a heavy breath out, as if trying to clear her system of a cold, shaking her head and setting her shoulders.
‘Head back to Zalen and Kryst.’ offered Kubrean.
‘No.’ she replied sharply ‘I’ll be alright.’ She gazed on ahead surveying the blackened houses intently.
The deeper they ventured into the village the worse it became, charred bodies littered the streets, in long grass, the road, flopped over
windows and the entrances to doors. Nothing had been spared. Between simple houses were a few streets that scattered off in all manner of directions. Some houses remained unburnt but were there had been no fire there was blood, splashed on outer walls, handprints dragged along the pale exterior.
Some corpses had been armed, evidently trying to fight but savage cuts, quivers of arrows protruding from their bodies, some seemed to have just run. but all had fallen as they had tried to escape.
There were blackened remains of men, women and children causing Kaoldan’s stomach to heave. He swallowed the sensation down closing his eyes as he did so, taking a deep breath.
The strangest thing was there was nothing left, not people, not animals, dogs, cats, chickens, nothing.
Just a thick overwhelming smell of slaughter.
Kaoldan began to feel a swell of emotion inside, gone was the water in his legs, the gnawing in his stomach, the doubt. He was filled with coldness, a coldness that rose through him like a wave. He clenched his jaw. Eyes darting this way and that looking for any sign of life, anything that might begin to provide answers, not mattering how horrific. He realised that he was not breathing, the fingerless gloves of his sword hand showed white stiff fingers.
He stopped. Exploded a breath outward, and he tried to regain some composure.
Focus or they too could end up dead.
The feeling washed over him in waves, as they progressed through the town, wave after wave of coldness, but he was aware of both his revulsion and a growing need to hurt someone.
The sound of muffled paws on the hard-baked street was their only companion as they entered what appeared to be the main square. It had been market day judging by the scattered torn and discarded stalls. Shredded canopies flapped absently in the wind folding around tables. Wicker baskets rolled on to and fro absently in the breeze strewn on the floor, apples and green vegetable scattered across the stone paved square. Pottery and plates smashed; pieces littered the floor like autumn leaves.
