by Greg Curtis
All those with gifts were called to the southern land. Like called to like as they said. And magic called to magic. His very blood had pulled him south. And once he had arrived in the Hallows, it had drawn him on to the Glade of Grace. But because his blood wasn't actually a compass, it had taken him nearly a month of riding to find the Glade.
That of course left him with questions. The first of them was obviously that since the Duke's soldiers didn't have blood like his – how had they found the Glade? There were no maps as far as he knew. He also had to wonder how they had gotten there without being spotted. Because while the Hallows might look uninhabited save for the usual flora and fauna, they weren't. There were people everywhere – and wardens watching over them.
The Fae had far more than just a few glades and mystical places that they'd settled as the bards would have it. They were only the beginning of their realm. There were also a great number of towns and villages spread throughout the Hallows. But they might not be easily seen. Some of those towns were built among the tree tops. Others were on the ground in clearings and alongside rivers and streams. The Fae built among the tree trunks and into hills as well. In truth, they were everywhere.
No doubt the soldiers had gone into the Hallows expecting to see monsters. “Monsters” – pah! There were no monsters here – though they certainly had some frighteningly large wolves and birds. Despite their size though the animals posed no danger. In fact many of them were pets. The wolves for the most part were riding wolves. They wolves had been domesticated. And while the people from his Realm frightened their children with tales of fanged bears and monstrous birds, he’d yet to see a fanged bear, while the most terrible of birds he could think of were the over-sized eagles. And as with the riding wolves, the eagles too were ridden.
Another reason people from his ream might think the Hallows were largely uninhabited – save for the monsters! – was because of the absence of roads and tracks. And of those who trekked in, few would have thought to look up. If they had then they would surely have noticed the dozens of walkways that hung between the trees. Or the houses, stores and workshops that were built in them too. The chances however, were that anyone walking through the forest could have walked underneath a town and never even known. But the people in those towns would have seen them.
So how had the soldiers avoided being seen? The Glade of Grace was by his best guess a straight five day march from where he was. There was no way that a heavily armed party of raiders large enough to attack the Glade's residents could walk that far and for that length of time through the trees and not be seen. And that was assuming they had known where they were going.
Unless they had both magic and a map of some sort?
Still, right now that couldn’t be his concern. Not when his focus had to be finding a place to camp and then setting up an ambush. So once he reached the start of the forest that had to be the end of his journey.
That was a hard thing to face. His instinct, his need was to carry on. He wanted to go back into the Hallows. He wanted to face the enemy as quickly as possible. To save his friends. And that was why he'd bought the machine. It could get him to the edge of the Hallows more quickly than anything else. It had done just that. But not only couldn't it go any further, it would be a mistake for him to do so even if it could. How would he find them? Hunt the enemy? And even if he had a rough idea of where they were, travelling through such a dense forest could mean he missed the path they were taking entirely.
His task now was to make camp and prepare. He had to let the enemy come to him. It was the only thing he could do. But knowing that didn't help. Because how could he let his friends suffer a single extra day while he did nothing? Though that was assuming they'd been captured and not killed. He was basing everything he was doing on a few words yelled by a man with a coarse voice. The man might have changed his mind. Or it might only be one or two people out of hundreds. He could already be too late to help.
With all of that on his mind, Baen gently pushed the throttle pedal down gently and had the wheeler carry him off the road and the last of the way across the rolling grasslands to the edge of the forest.
He was lucky that the weather was fine. That there'd been no rain for a few days. It meant that the grass was dry and the tyres on the machine could gain some purchase on the grass. But still he had to take it easy. The wheeler had so much power that its balloon like wheels could easily start tearing up the land and cause it to bog down in the soft earth. Fortunately he was becoming practised at riding the beast and he managed to keep it under control until he finally reached the tree-line.
After that he stopped and set up camp for the night as he started making his plans for dealing with the Duke's men. Though of course he also spent a lot of time simply staring at the forest barely a hundred yards from him. The demarcation between Grenland – the realm of humans – and the Hallows – home to the Fae.
Of course most people didn't see things that way. They saw the trees and simply knew not to enter. Not because it was the land of the Fae. Simply because it was dangerous. They knew nothing of the ancient magical people. There were stories, old tales and legends, but for the most part they were nothing more than that. The Fae wars had been fought over six hundred years before and long since forgotten. Many doubted they had been fought at all. That the history of the realm was a myth. What they feared were the tales of the bards. The creatures that called the Hallows home. Monsters. Ghosts. Maybe a few wizards. Dark priests. Brigands. They were convinced that the Hallows were overrun with them.
Only a few like him knew better. A few with magic and more importantly the desire to read dusty old books of history.
Once he had set up his camp he set his mind to the how he might ambush the Duke’s men. First, he had to make sure they came out at this exact spot and not somewhere further along the tree line. Baen knew that they would be coming this way. But he also knew that there were no roads for them to follow. Instead they would be heading through a forest, getting turned around by the contours of the land and guiding themselves mostly by compasses. They were unlikely to emerge at exactly the right place to meet up with the road and with him. He had to make sure they did.
Baen realised that he needed to try to contact Nyri, the Glade’s chief protector – assuming of course that she had survived the attack and was able to speak with him. He knew no more of the raid than what he had overheard that first night. If she was able to respond – better yet if she had been lucky enough to escape being captured or injured – then she could provide him with more information. However, his doing so would inevitably lead to questions about how he had learnt of the attack so quickly. Baen really didn’t want to confess to his eavesdropping. And now that the moment had come, he found himself stalling. And yet he'd realised as he'd ridden here that there was no choice. And now that late afternoon had turned to early evening and he'd lit his camp fire, he knew he couldn’t delay any longer. With a sigh Baen stood up and drew his staff. Then he began the process of burning a circle into the grass.
It took time to mark out the full circle and the star within it – the spirit circle was a complex enchantment and he didn't want to make a mistake. Even so the moon was still not too high in the sky when he had completed the task. Then Baen took his place at one point of the star within the circle and cleared his thoughts.
“Nyri.”
He focussed his thoughts on her name and her memory, then sent them out on the wind, hoping that she would hear him. But he wasn't sure she would. He was mostly an elemental and physical enchanter and magic of the mind was not something he was particularly practised at. Besides; if she hadn’t been captured then at that moment she would be busy. Her charges had been attacked and if he was right and some of them had been taken prisoner and were even now being brought to the Duke, she would be hunting. And if she were captured …? Then she might be too weak to respond. He therefore wasn't surprised when he didn't see her immediately appear.
But that
just meant he had to call her again, and so that was what he did. He called her name, putting all his will into it, trying to make himself heard across the leagues. And when once again there was no response, he did it again. He kept trying until the very sound of her name in his thoughts started to lose its meaning.
It took some time but finally her visage appeared opposite him.
“Baen!” She greeted him, looking somewhat suspicious. “How interesting.”
“That I should call on you so soon after the Glade was attacked?” Baen kept his voice neutral, his face impassive as he returned the gaze of the ghostly woman sitting on the opposite point of the star. He had to maintain his concentration. “I will explain. But first, I need to know how bad things are.” Unfortunately, judging from the fact that she wore a sword and was carrying a longbow over her shoulder, they were very bad indeed.
Still, he found himself once more amazed by her beauty. He'd forgotten that in the years that had passed since he had last seen her. And back then he had seen her through the eyes of a sixteen year old boy staring at a sixteen year old girl. But time had not diminished her beauty at all. It had only helped it to grow. Obviously it had also helped her anger with him to grow. And that was his fault. As a boy he had been smitten by her. He had told her as much. And then he had left.
There were no words to describe what a cad he had been. Or to apologise with. But even if there had been, this was not the time for them.
Nyri was the Protector for the Glade of Grace. There were others with her who carried out the same task, her wardens, but she was their leader. It was hardly surprising then that she was by nature, suspicious. It was how she kept the others safe. No doubt she had taken the attack hard and would blame herself for what had happened.
“You felt the attack?” She stared at him, her black eyes boring into him.
“I heard it.” He danced around the subject like a veteran muck spouter. It was too dark to tell but Baen hoped that her eyes weren’t turning black with anger at his evasiveness. “But this is not the time for that. How many are hurt? How many taken? And how many are …?” He suddenly couldn't finish his question. He couldn't speak the word.
“Too many. It was the Glade of Grace that was attacked, and the humans descended upon those singing in great numbers. Humans. Like you.” She didn't add the last simply because it was an interesting coincidence. It was her job to be suspicious.
“I know. I heard the shouts and the cries. And I heard one of them shout the name of the Duke. Duke Barnly. As soon as I heard the name of the person responsible for the attack I raced to get here. But first, please; how many? And do I know them?”
“Sixteen will no longer sing the song of our people. Forty more are with the healers. And we believe at least twenty-five are with the attackers.” She stared straight at him, her eyes definitely black, and deliberately not telling him of the ones he cared about. “Now tell me plainly how you could have heard this from where you live hundreds of leagues away?”
Baen took a deep breath, knowing she wasn't going to be put off any longer. “I liked the singing. I wanted to listen to it even when I could not be there. So I enchanted a pair of rocks while I was there. One speaks what the other hears.” He braced himself for the response.
“You've been spying on us?!” Her stare became uncomfortably hard, even when all he could see of her was a ghostly reflection.
“Listening Nyri, not spying. Never that. I only wanted to hear the songs.” But even as he told her that he knew she wouldn't listen. Best then to steer the conversation back to what mattered. “But I ask that my mistakes be put aside for the moment. I have only come here because I want to help. I've ridden a hundred and fifty leagues to get to the edge of the Hallows and I've brought all the magic I have with me.”
“Put aside?” Her face gave no indication that she was willing to do any such thing. In fact she looked angered by the mere suggestion that she might do such a thing. But then she was already angry.
“For the moment! Please Nyri, how did the Duke's men do this? How did they penetrate so far into G'lorenvale without being seen?”
Again, he tried to steer the conversation back to the attack. But it wasn't easy when he saw the look in her eyes. How could any woman be so beautiful and yet so stern he wondered? He had wondered that same thing when he had first met her. Then she had been a warden, barely any older than him if at all. But even then her mind had the tempering of the finest steel, and with the complete inability to yield. She had not tolerated his jests or his supposed moral laxity then. She would not tolerate it now.
“Treachery,” she finally answered. “I know not how or who. But I know that the humans came with magic to hide them from our eyes. More magic still to guide them straight to the Glade of Grace. And now that they have captured so many of our people they return home with cold iron and yet more magic to prevent us from striking at them as we should. They were prepared.”
“Still, they paid a heavy price for their attack. The wolves have taken down well over a hundred of their number already.”
“Good.” Baen had no qualms about her and her people killing the raiders. Not even when their deaths were at the hands of giant riding wolves. These raiders were likely mercenaries who had accepted the coin of the Duke. Plus, they had invaded a peaceful land and harmed an innocent people. They needed to be stopped any way possible. “Now let's see if between us we can take down the rest and free the prisoners.”
“They are protected by cold iron and powerful magic, but the wolves and the arrows can still bring them down eventually.”
“Eventually?” There then was the nub of her problem he realised. Nyri was worried that they would escape the Hallows before she and her wardens could stop them. And once they left there would be nothing more that they could do.
But there were more problems for the Fae. The raiders had been armed with magic and cold iron. The latter was poisonous to the Fae and most would not go near it. The wolves would likely avoid it as well, since like their masters they too were magical in nature. And as for their arrows, it was difficult to loose one at a target in a forest. The trees got in the way. Besides which, the raiders probably had other protections with them. She was right. The raiders had clearly come prepared.
No doubt the raiders thought that once they escaped the forest they would be free of the Fae. The Fae would not easily leave its protective embrace. Even if they did they feared that their magic would fail if they moved too far from it.
But though they might escape the forest and the Fae, they would not escape him! He was not so restricted.
“Now tell me Nyri, do you think you can use the wolves and your wardens to guide the path of the raiders to me?” Baen set out the heart of his plan.
Nyri stared at him closely, by the looks of things weighing his words. “I take it from that that you are planning an ambush. That speaks to me of strategy and tactics. Something you knew naught of when you were last with us. Tell me, are you no longer a merchant's son?”
Baen cringed a little when he heard her say that. The Fae were not a trading people in the way humans were. They had money – little polished ebony sticks with silver markings – but no banks or vaults to put them in and little to buy with them. The banthu as they called their coins, were for day to day things. But if you wanted to buy anything special like a home or a horse, you had to barter for it. As for the idea of running a store to earn lots of banthu – that was considered unworthy.
“Actually, I sell books. But I have studied my craft and cold iron is no barrier to my magic.” He could have added that he was no longer a sixteen-year-old boy either, but thought better of it.
“Books! Praise the wild spirits! It is such a typical human failing!” Nyri shook her head in disapproval. “Say it is not so! That you do not spend your days reading instead of doing. Gathering banthu instead of living!”
Baen's cheeks reddened slightly. He said nothing.
“Oh no!” She buried her face
in her hands. “It seems that the fates of so many rests in the hands of one who reads but does not do. Still, we must make the best of what little we have and construct a plan. Though do not imagine for a heartbeat that your spying on my people will be forgotten.”
“I will not imagine any such thing.” He let out a heavy breath. “But my magic is strong regardless of how weak my memory may be. And I can help you – if you'll let me.” Things had gone about as well as he could have hoped for Baen realised, but he was still in a lot of trouble. But that could be dealt with later. For the moment he had friends to save. And despite her doubts, she knew she needed his help. But he still needed to know about Caris and her family. So he asked again.
“We don't know.” She answered him simply. “There was confusion. Fear. People ran everywhere. And we have been hunting ever since. There has been no time.”
Of course she didn't know. Baen mentally kicked himself for asking. It had been a stupid question. So he turned his thoughts back to what lay ahead.
