by Martin Ash
"I will destroy this place before I leave," she swore to herself.
"That may not be possible, Majesty," said Shenwolf. "Not until we can return with a strong force."
"I am known here as Jace," Issul cautioned him. "It is safer to keep it that way. Dispense, then, with all references and formalities that might in any way indicate my true status. Until I state otherwise."
"Jace. That is your daughter's name, Princess Jace, is it not?"
She nodded, the thought of her daughter raising a torrent of emotions in her breast. Then she frowned. "What are you doing?"
Shenwolf had shrugged off his shirt and jupon and was stepping out of his trousers. "Majesty - Jace - will you give me your clothes?"
"What?"
"Take mine for now, please. It is important that the Karai believe you have perished here. Your torn clothing will be evidence. Just the outer garments will suffice, I think."
"What about you?" she asked.
He dropped his clothes upon the ground at her feet and stood before her in loincloth and boots, his swordbelt still buckled at his waist. "There is plenty of discarded clothing in the clearing. I shall make use of that."
He was well-formed, she noted quickly, the body young, lithe and adequately muscled, softly pale in the closing dark. He was smiling, the mouth broad, eyes shining. She shifted her gaze. "You are audacious, Shenwolf."
"I am acting only in your interests, Jace. I will avert my eyes."
He turned away and Issul moved behind the trunk of the oak and removed her outer garments, which were drenched with the sweat of her terror. She slipped into his. They swamped her, but she was able to secure the trousers with her belt, and roll up the hems so that they did not drag around her feet.
"We will find something more suitable in due course," said Shenwolf, grinning.
"Just give me a needle, strong thread and cutters. The Karai have made me an expert in the art of patching, darning and adjusting."
He took her clothes and began to tear them.
"You are going back out there, now?"
"It is as good a time as any. Wait here."
Before she could say anything more he had dashed from the cover of the trees and was making for the centre of the clearing. Seven slooths fed there now, unaware of him. He ran directly at them, brandishing his sword, and as he closed on them began to shout loudly. The slooth's scattered, shrieking in annoyance. To Issul's shock Shenwolf ran straight into their midst and threw himself onto the ground beside what remained of the other prisoner. Issul saw that he was draping her clothing across the corpse, pressing it against the flesh and bones. Then he stood, whirling his blade as the slooth's closed in. They drew back again with harsh cries. Shenwolf took the garments and threw them at the nearest slooth.
Above Issul's head there was a sudden shaking and shuddering.
"Shenwolf!" she yelled as the dark, heavy body of the roosting slooth slid free and glided rapidly across the glade towards him. Shenwolf glanced around, saw the new threat, and ran, weaving nimbly between the winged-beasts, two of which were now rising into the air. He stood, legs apart, facing the slooth that soared towards him. At the last instant he dropped flat once again. The slooth glided over him, its talons missing him by a breath. He leapt to his feet, glancing behind him to gauge the positions of the others, and charged towards Issul.
He threw himself down panting beside her and held up a tatter of green cloth stained with dry blood. "Hmm. I think it was once a shirt, but now it is perhaps not as useful as I had hoped."
"You were foolish," said Issul. "You were very nearly killed."
He nodded. "I had the advantage. They were distracted while they fed. Of course they are angered by being obliged to make do with half-rations, but even so they are only at their most dangerous when in flight. On the ground they are ungainly and not difficult to avoid."
"You seem to know much about them."
He shook his head. "Only what I noted when they attacked Enchantment's Reach. Note, should you ever have to fight them, their hide is very tough. If you can, strike at the wings to cripple them. Then run."
"What were you doing with my clothing?"
"Bloodying it for the Karai. They do not expect to find it crisp and clean. Now, I will have to think again in regard to garbing myself. I have a den in the woods on the other side of the camp. Let’s go there quickly while some light remains. Follow precisely in my footsteps, Jace" - he grinned, giving particular inflection to the name. He seemed to be enjoying himself - "and do not waver by a single step. I have disabled a number of traps and established a safe path, but to wander from it may bring a nasty surprise. One thing I’ll say for the Karai, they are ingenious."
NINE
I
The den turned out to be a hollow formed naturally beneath a fallen tree and a formation of moss-blanketed boulders. It lay a couple of hundred paces into the forest to the northeast of the Karai camp. Shenwolf had burrowed well into the soil, hiding the earth he removed beneath neighbouring rocks and brambles, and had created a comfortable little nest lined with dry grass, bracken and fern. The entrance was well-concealed behind a dense arras of ivy and bindweed.
"I’m sorry there’s little space," he apologised as Issul crawled inside. "The excavation was done hurriedly and I’ve had no time to add a guest's suite. But it’s adequately ventilated and comparatively safe. As long as we don’t thrash I think we’ll be quite comfortable. Under better circumstances I would of course offer to sleep outside, but I think that would be unwise just now. The Karai regularly search the woods for me. But should you feel. . . ."
"It will be fine," Issul said. It was claustrophobic in the pitch-black of the den, with earth, rock and roots all around and above her. The ceiling was too low to even sit up; the air was close with the smell of mouldering earth.
"I can offer you only berries, fruit, chanterelles and rabbit meat. The meat is raw, I’m afraid. I can’t risk a fire. My army rations are gone, otherwise they’d be yours."
Issul accepted the fruit, berries and chanterelles but declined the rabbit. She ate hungrily, not seeing what it was he had given her, then laid her head on the dry grass litter, thinking. The journey from the slooths' feeding-pens had been laborious and slow in the deepening dark. She was exhausted, and before she knew it she had fallen asleep, dreaming absurdly of hot soup and grey Karai bread.
When she awoke light was filtering in from above through flues in the rocks overhead. She was alone in the den. She crawled to the entrance and peered through the ivy and bindweed. There was nothing to be seen but dense, silent forest, dew-clad and still. Mindful of the risks of emerging, Issul slid back down and waited. After a short time there came a footfall outside, the entrance was drawn back and Shenwolf slid nimbly inside.
"Where did you get the clothing?" she asked. He was dressed in a torn grey flannel shirt and rough green trousers.
"I have been back to the feeding-pen. Apart from the clothing, I wanted to check whether the slooth I had wounded was still alive, and if so to kill it and remove the body before the Karai find it. As it happened it was largely unnecessary. Its companions have eaten it. Still, the wings and skeleton remained, and those I’ve now disposed of. I’ve brought some more food, all washed in the stream." He emptied his shirt of white radish, watercress, groundnuts, almonds, wild beans, morels and, lastly and with some pride, a trio of plump black truffles. "A veritable feast! And raw rabbit is really not so bad once you're used to it."
Issul again declined the rabbit but satisfied herself with the nuts, radish, beans and fungi.
"I suggest we leave as soon as we’ve eaten," said Shenwolf, tearing at the pink rabbit flesh. "It’s a long, slow way to Enchantment's Reach. There’s a Karai squad somewhere ahead of us, and in the forest are bears, grumlags and worse. We’ll have to move with extreme caution."
Issul shook her head. "I’m anxious to return to my husband and children, but I can’t leave the men who have become my companions thes
e last days, knowing they will be dead before I could hope to return."
Shenwolf ruffled his pale brown hair. "I’d feared as much."
"If I can I’ll destroy this place. They are constructing something on the other side of the camp. Do you know what?"
"No. I’ve observed it with some fascination. Much of it’s underground, and very difficult to approach. It’s guarded at all times."
"Take me there. But first we should exchange our clothing again. What you’ve brought will be no worse a fit on me than your own. One of us at least should be comfortable."
When they’d done Shenwolf enquired, "Do you have any weapons’ training?"
"Sword, knife, bow, crossbow. . . ."
"Excellent." He reached into the back of the den and brought out a shortbow and clutch of arrows. "I’ve no spare sword, but you may keep my knife for the time being."
"Where did you get this?"
"I cut the bow from an ash sapling, the arrows are birch fletched with pheasant feathers. The string is waxed hemp, taken from one of the Karai devices I disabled. I’d intended it for when my crossbow-bolts were used up, but I can make another. It lacks professional quality, but it’s better than nothing."
With painstaking slowness they made their way through the woods, Shenwolf with his crossbow across his back, Issul carrying her bow. Twice Shenwolf stopped to point at something upon the path close to their feet. On the first occasion Issul could see nothing.
"That branching stick that stands erect," he whispered, and cast his eyes about the nearest trees and bushes. "Move back."
Issul backed away. When he was satisfied she had gone far enough he lay prone on the ground and, taking his sword, stretched forward to tap the stick he had indicated.
Something moved. There was a snap, a rustle. A powerful branch whipped out across the path they had been following, shooting above Shenwolf's outstretched body and coming to rest. At its tip was fixed a wooden grille from which protruded a number of slender sharpened sticks, each about a metre long. Had it struck it would have impaled a man in a dozen places.
"They are ingenious," said Shenwolf, pocketing the twine that had secured the trap. "And industrious. This device was not here two days ago."
A little further on he pointed out what looked to Issul like leaf litter upon the ground. He brushed it carefully aside and she looked through a hatchwork of fragile, slender branches into a pit filled with sharpened stakes.
"Remember, Jace, never run in these woods unless the path is one we have cleared ourselves during the same day."
He showed her places for hiding, including a semi-hollow oak. "This is also an excellent lookout post. From here you have a good view of both the camp and the work area. Climb carefully and take a look."
Issul climbed up the inside of the tree, then further into the great boughs towards the light that shone through the mass of slowly yellowing leaves. The camp lay before her, frighteningly close it seemed. Few Karai were visible. Those that were, carried shields or knelt behind the parapets of the watchtowers. In the centre of the compound the two prisoners still hung upon frames.
A little way off, beyond the southwestern perimeter of the camp, she saw a secondary compound, itself palisaded. Here the prisoners worked with bent backs, watched by at least a dozen guards. They had constructed a large, flat-roofed stone building with a single entrance, sunk into the ground, which was reached by steps. Issul could make out nothing of its function.
She climbed higher, hoping to gaze across the forest roof and determine the position of Enchantment's Reach. Just to gaze upon her beloved home! But she saw only the billowing sea of greens, yellows and golds stretching away to the horizon beneath a piercingly blue sky. She scanned all around, and caught her breath. Shining like gigantic distant phantoms were the mountains of Enchantment, touched with blazing snow, extending further than she could see. Were they closer? Yes, for she had never seen such detail on them before. Yet still they seemed so far away.
She descended and sat with Shenwolf at the base of the oak, drinking cool water from his flask.
"What are your thoughts now, Jace?" the young soldier enquired, as usual placing emphasis on the name with apparent amusement. "It’s a noble endeavour to try to free the prisoners and destroy the camp, but an implausible one. We are but two, after all."
Issul was thinking to herself: They believe me dead.
How could she use this?
She turned to Shenwolf. "The Karais’ methods can be turned against them. It’s not such a hopeless task. No, I want to see all of the forest that you’ve explored around here. I think I know how we can catch two, three, perhaps even four birds with the same stone."
II
They worked hard that day, and as dusk approached took themselves off to the edge of the slooth feeding-pen and concealed themselves in the undergrowth beneath the trees. They waited and watched, and in due course two bound men were brought from the camp and lashed to the two posts. Issul's heart skipped a beat when she saw that one of the victims was Herbin.
Fate and Fortune give us speed in this endeavour!
She looked up into the branches overhead. Two slooths roosted there, their eyes closed.
She and Shenwolf had arrived here when the light was still strong, hoping to determine the position of each of the flying beasts. Issul remembered counting thirteen passing overhead when she’d been brought to the camp. With the one that Shenwolf had killed the night before, that left twelve. And twelve they had now counted roosting in the trees around the clearing.
She watched until the Karai guards had marched from the glade back towards the camp, checked once more above her head, then slapped Shenwolf on the shoulder. "Go!"
The young soldier, sword and knife drawn and crossbow across his back, rose and sprinted across the glade. Issul notched an arrow to her bow and knelt, eyes keened. She had calculated, as yesterday, that the slooths were sleeping and would not attack immediately, but was taking no unnecessary risks all the same.
Shenwolf arrived beside the nervous Herbin and quickly cut through his bonds. "Take off your clothes. Don’t argue, just do as I say. Quickly!"
When Herbin was down to his undergarments Shenwolf pointed to Issul, who waved him to her.
"Run, fast!" urged Shenwolf, pushing him away, and moved to the second prisoner.
Herbin arrived beside Issul, his face pale and confused. A few moments later came the second prisoner, a swarthy, slightly-built man whose prominent cheekbones suggested Murinean descent and whose name, they would later learn, was Phisusandra. Shenwolf had remained behind, seated against one of the posts. Still no slooth had stirred.
"I’ll explain everything later," said Issul. "For now, can either of you use a bow?"
To her relief both men nodded. She pointed to the base of the tree where a pair of rough ash bows, several arrows and a couple of hastily hewn birch spears lay. "Arm yourselves and take positions beside me. Whatever you do, do not stray from beneath the trees."
She watched Shenwolf, her heart thumping. She knew he had to stay there; they had discussed it more than once during the day as they had made their preparations. The slooths had to be lured to their food, as normal. There was no other way.
The waiting was interminable. At last she heard it, a shaking in the branches of a tree some way off to her left. She saw Shenwolf shift his position slightly, and kept her eyes on the glade behind him in case any of the creatures attacked at his back.
A dark form slid across her vision, gliding straight for Shenwolf. There was a gasp of fear and disbelief from one of the men at her side. Issul levelled her bow.
As the slooth drew close to Shenwolf it raised its wings to land, exposing its breast. Shenwolf lifted his crossbow and fired, then rolled quickly to the side. At almost the same moment Issul loosed her arrow, which sailed straight and true and lodged in the beast's shoulder. Herbin and Phisusandra also fired, but she did not see whose arrows hit.
The slooth shrieked and sl
ewed in sudden agony. Shenwolf leapt to his feet and struck with his sword, hacking, hacking, hacking at the tough hide. At last the slooth fell dead at his feet. He bent, wrenched free the crossbow bolt, took up his crossbow, glanced quickly about the glade then ran to Issul and the other two.
"Good! They have their dinner!" He lay upon his back for a moment, grinning up at the two slooths roosting overhead, then sat up. "I’ll return in the morning to remove any tell-tale remains. The Karai should be none the wiser." He grinned again. "Well, now we are four!"
Issul was watching Herbin, whose young face was grey and set, his eyes on the two central posts. "This is where they have been taking their victims all this time?" he said. "Here, to become living food for these monsters?"
"I’m sorry, Herbin."
"But you, Jace, you’ve survived. Are there others?"
"Shenwolf came to my aid yesterday," she said softly. "But I’m the only one."
"Then Miseon, my father. . . ."
"I’m sorry, Herbin." Silently she offered thanks that he had not spotted the ghastly evidence that she’d seen the evening before, though the knowledge of what his father must have suffered could have been little worse.
Herbin's eyes filled with tears, but his mouth was twisted into a grimace of hatred. He stared, trembling, towards the invisible Karai camp. "They’lll pay for this. I swear. I swear. I will avenge my father, and my brother also. I won’t rest until their murderers are dead."
III
It was late morning. The Karai guard in one of the watchtowers yelled a warning at the sight of a man creeping between the trees outside the camp. The guard, kneeling, took aim and loosed an arrow. It missed, and the man made off, limping.
An eight-strong Karai squad came running at the guard's call. They passed through the gate and made for the woods, their quarry just visible. Weapons drawn they quickened their pace, seeing that their victim seemed unable to outrun them.
