by Brett Vonsik
Suhd saw the look on Rogaan’s face and snuggled up to him. She did not speak. Just snuggled. She felt good...warm, despite the cool breeze. Pax smiled and handed him the rest of the dried meat. Rogaan ate the white meat, what he thought was snapjaw or tanniyn as he washed it down with water Pax handed him. When Rogaan looked up, he found Pax asleep sitting against the rocks, his chin on his chest. Suhd was asleep too, though she lay comfortably against his chest. Rogaan smiled. He felt at ease and with Suhd lying against him, happy. The late-afternoon sun cut through the billowing clouds, casting a yellow-orange glow on a spot of rocks not far away, where Kardul sat impassively watching them. Rogaan wondered why Kardul was watching them with so much interest; then he closed his eyes.
Chapter 15
Field of Strife
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. Rogaan felt more than heard the low rhythmic sound. He was jostled about and regularly knocked on his right side, head to knee, before realizing he was unable to move his arms and legs much. A shiver gave him an awareness of being wet and chill. A deep breath filled his nose with the musky smell of sarig. A heavy snort told him the animal was near and working hard. Rogaan opened his eyes to a blinding brightness that felt painful. His eyes adjusted to the bright sky after a number of blinks. He found himself in a net hammock at the side of a sarig.
“Burn the Ancients,” Rogaan cursed, not believing anyone would have him travel so undignified. His head felt unclear.
Rogaan struggled to get a better look at his predicament. He was unbound, but stuck fast in thick netting at the right side of a charcoal-colored sarig, making it difficult for him to move. Looking past his feet, two other charcoal sarigs trotted down a sloping trail with a steeply rising rocky wall to the animal’s left, and a drop-off less than four strides to the animal’s right. Each of the sarigs carried a sharur rider; Trundiir followed by Ishmu. Slung on the right side of Trundiir’s sarig was a net hammock that Rogaan guessed Suhd was within. He hoped she was treated as he had been, and felt some relief in expecting that Trundiir would see her unharmed...he hoped she was unharmed. Twisting and looking ahead, Rogaan saw three sarigs working their way down a trail. Ruumoor rode the closest on his trotting sarig, another charcoal-colored beast, with a guide rope attached to the animal carrying him. Kardul and his mud-colored sarig trotted ahead of Ruumoor, and Adul on his charcoal sarig led the entourage down the winding trail.
It was early morning, as best Rogaan could tell with the sun not yet breaking over the mountain ridge above them. The sky held clouds less threatening than Rogaan last remembered. What happened? Rogaan wondered. His unclear head and sometimes blurred vision, frustrated, grabbed at him. What happened to me? Rogaan wanted answers.
“Hey, Ruumoor,” Rogaan called out. The baraan seemed not to hear him. Rogaan called out again, “Ruumoor! Let me out of this thing.”
Ruumoor glanced over his shoulder, meeting Rogaan’s stare, then looked forward, calling out. The baraan’s words were unclear to Rogaan, keeping him from understanding what the sharur was saying to the others. Kardul quickly called out something and held his hand high, signaling everyone to stop. After they halted and steadied the animals, Kardul nodded to Ruumoor, who dismounted and approached Rogaan.
“You sleep well?” Ruumoor asked with a smile.
“Well...” Rogaan replied, uncertain what to make of Ruumoor’s attempt at dry humor.
“Surprised you woke so soon,” Ruumoor continued as he worked the net lashings. “Most sleep longer...much longer. Hold the net closest to the animal, or you’ll fall.”
Realizing his sleep was by intent, anger flared in Rogaan. How dare they....Without warning, he tumbled to the ground with a thump and a groan. Anger swelled within him with the new pains. Immediately, he scrambled to his feet, forgetting his physical aches. He found himself standing eye to eye with Ruumoor.
“I warned you to hold the net,” Ruumoor said matter-of-factly, still with that smile, then pointed to the sarig’s saddle. “Climb up and mount this one. We’ll travel faster.”
Rogaan glared at the sharur before Ruumoor dismissed him, and turned back to his steed. Rogaan grabbed at Ruumoor’s arm to stop him from walking away. He had questions. Instead, he found Ruumoor’s long knife at his throat and an unsympathetic set of eyes meeting his from behind the blade. It happened so fast -- Rogaan did not know what to think, nor did he even have a chance to react.
“Be careful of your reach,” Ruumoor said evenly.
“What’s this about?” Kardul asked at a distance.
Ruumoor lowered his long knife then re-sheathed it. He replied, “My apologies, Master Kiuri’Ner. Instinct and reflex when our companion here took hold of me.”
“Get him mounted,” Kardul growled. “We don’t have time for this.”
Rogaan warily watched Ruumoor. He did not know what to make of the sharur’s knife or the attitude behind it. The baraan seemed on edge and not in too good of a mood.
“Let’s be movin’,” Ruumoor insistent in a friendlier manner while pointing to the saddle on Rogaan’s sarig. “We’re being followed without relent and need to keep a fast pace.”
“Him?” Rogaan asked not knowing who “him” was. He wanted to know whom they were so concerned about...whom they feared so.
Ruumoor looked frustrated and impatient as he secured the netting to allow the sarig to travel without getting entangled. He answered as he motioned for Rogaan to climb into the saddle, “Yes. He’s pushin’ us. Kept us on the move all night. We’re in the southern foothills, now, soon to enter the flats.”
Rogaan complied with the sharur’s urging and climbed onto the sarig, comfortably situating himself in the saddle. As Ruumoor turned to return to his sarig, Rogaan hurriedly asked one of those questions he needed answers to. “What of Suhd and Pax...how long will they sleep?”
“No tellin’,” the sharur answered as he briskly walked away. “I’d expect through the mornin’, at least.”
Rogaan looked back to Trundiir, expecting to see the net bundle holding Pax on the other side of the sharur’s sarig. A net bundling equipment and bedding was what he found, but no Pax. Rogaan looked at Ruumoor’s sarig and found the same. Confused, he looked down and found Pax wrapped in nets on the left side of the sarig he sat upon. His friend was soundly asleep. This struck him oddly; Rogaan could not recall a time he saw Pax so…peaceful. The sarig jerked forward, almost throwing him out of the saddle before he grabbed onto some netting and the saddle handles. Off they went without ceremony, traveling quickly, almost recklessly galloping down the wet, slick trail.
Panic seized Rogaan as he realized his shunir’ra was missing -- it was not over his shoulder where he last remembered it. In a fluster, he looked and felt over the sarig, hoping to find his bow case. Nothing. Rogaan then looked over Ruumoor and his sarig. There was nothing that looked like his bow case. He found the same when he visually searched Kardul and his steed. More panic swelled -- Rogaan twisted, looking behind to find Trundiir swaying easily atop his sarig, holding up Rogaan’s shunir’ra case. The weight of the mountains lifted off of Rogaan’s shoulders as he exhaled in relief. Oh, he felt at ease, taking in a deep breath, then exhaling again. Trundiir grinned then tucked the bow case into an empty scabbard at the front of his saddle, where it would travel, to both Rogaan’s relief and out of reach frustration.
Kardul and the companions traveled through the night while he was asleep. Though feeling well-rested, he did not understand why they had given him, Pax, and Suhd something to make them to sleep. Were they not more of a burden sleeping than being able to walk and ride? He did not understand, and that frustrated and frightened him in a way he was unable to describe. It was an itch that had started growing the day before when he watched Kardul seemingly put things together that he was not telling the rest of them about.
In short time, the column of sarigs left the slippery mountain trails and started off over rolling hills covered in broken forest. The Wilds were alive with life everywhere Rogaa
n looked, and filled with sounds from everywhere, including where he could not see. Chirps and clicks, featherwing songs, and tanniyn grumblings and bellows and an occasional roar filled Rogaan’s ears. Featherwings darted from tree to tree, sometimes chasing each other while making a ruckus, as leatherwings soared high above circling in search of an easy meal. The trail was less defined here in these rolling hills, but Rogaan seemed able to make it out as the overgrowth was disturbed in their passage. At least, that was what Rogaan kept telling himself, and hoping Adul and Kardul could see what he could not, and keeping them from getting lost. Ruumoor appeared alert, scanning left and right for dangers. Trundiir did much of the same as Rogaan glimpsed with an occasional look behind. Ishmu, who rode at the rear, perpetually kept his eyes looking at where they had passed, obviously watching for him. This mystery tracker truly had Kardul and the sharur unsettled. That made Rogaan anxious, especially when it involved an unknown.
After watching Ishmu for a short time, Rogaan thought it might be more comfortable for the sharur to ride his sarig sitting backward, for all the time he spent looking there. Kardul kept them at a hard pace, with little deviations from their general direction. Such deviations were mostly to avoid thick patches of trees and bush, or to not disturb large tanniyn feeding on green browse. Rogaan started feeling confident at understanding the basics of cross-country travel. It did not seem as hard as he had envisioned it. The sun climbed on his left back to its mid-morning height, after breaking over the Spine Mountains. From the sun’s position in relation to him, and the time of the day, Rogaan felt confident they held a general southeast direction, traveling just as he thought they would need to get ahead of the jailer caravan. Rogaan tried to place their group on a map he had in his mind’s eye, a map of Shuruppak his father had showed him many times during his lessons. He guessed at where they were, but these rolling hills covered a large area on the map on the southern side of the Spine Mountains. If he had them placed right, they were not too many marches from the Di’Tij’s and the east-west road leading from these Wilds to Farratum.
Just short of mid-day, Ishmu pressed his sarig past Rogaan forward to Kardul and spoke to him while the steeds kept at their brisk walking pace. After a short exchange, Kardul motioned for everyone to stop and to gather. All the sharur quickly surrounded Kardul to discover what was so urgent. Ruumoor brought along Rogaan’s sarig, leaving him outside the sharur ring.
“He’s closing on us,” Kardul announced. “We can either make a stand or push on harder. Our sarigs are tired after keeping on all night, so I don’t expect them to hold up too long at a run, but at a trot they may be able to last most of today.”
“Why’s the dark axe choosin’ now to battle us?” Ruumoor asked.
“Why does a leaper choose when it strikes?” Trundiir answered.
“He has advantage,” Adul answered simply to Trundiir’s philosophical answer.
“We’re going to take away that advantage with a harder pace,” Kardul sounded grim. “Get moving.”
Kardul turned his sarig and took up the lead position, to Adul’s surprise and momentary confusion, but also visible relief. If Rogaan read the baraans’ faces and body moods correctly, dangers lay ahead, as well as chased them from behind. Adul turned his attention to Rogaan, looking at him as if regarding some burdensome object, then spoke absently as he shook his head in frustration. “Why does Im’Kas have interest in killing this half-tellen youngling? So much trouble.”
Him is Im’Kas – he is the dark axe! Confusion struck Rogaan about what he knew of Im’Kas through his father, and what all of the companions and others said of him. His father spoke well of Im’Kas, at times as if they were old friends, never as a dark figure…while almost all he heard beyond his father of Im’Kas was fear and loathing. Nothing made sense. Rogaan mumbled to himself while trying to make order of things, “Why is he feared so by so many? Why is Father not? What does Im’Kas want with me...unless it is to fetch me to the Ebon Circle temple and the dark robes?”
Rogaan shivered at the thought of the dark robes having him. It turned his stomach to think what they would do to him. With a lurch, his sarig took off at a hard trot, surprising Rogaan and almost tossing him out of the saddle. Holding on while trying to set his boots into the saddle’s foot holds, his backside got a good bruising from the hard hide of the saddle and the sarig’s trotting motion. Once his feet were anchored and his backside no longer getting punished, Rogaan looked his steed all over to make sure everything was strapped on securely. All was where he remembered -- including Pax, who still slept in the netting on the left side of their sarig. When is he going to wake? Rogaan wondered and a bit surprised that all the jostling had not already woken his friend.
Once the steed settled into a trotting rhythm, Rogaan’s thoughts returned to Im’Kas…the dark axe and the dark robes and the Ebon Circle. He did not fear Im’Kas…much…well, less than Kardul and his companions, but Rogaan decided after a few shivers and a sickening stomach that he wanted to keep away from the dark robes altogether. He had listened throughout his youngling years to too many stories of the vile and painful things the dark robes did to folks to get at what they wanted. What they wanted now, it seemed, was…Rogaan. With a hard swallow, he resolved himself to further defy his father and stay as far from the Ebon Circle and the dark robes as he could.
Kardul pushed them just short of the sarigs breaking trot to run. He guided them up against dense patches of trees and bushes, weaving through some of the less thick stuff, obviously trying to make it difficult for him to follow. The sharur followed Kardul’s path exactingly, likely to obscure their numbers or something else Rogaan had not thought of. Branches slapped Rogaan in the face and elsewhere as they passed under trees and thick brush. It frustrated and angered him that he was not better able to guide his sarig. Rogaan stole glances back as they traveled, hoping and yet not hoping to catch sight of Im’Kas, but he bounced in the saddle far too much for his eyes to settle and make out any details. Resigning himself to that, he just kept looking forward, trying to anticipate Kardul’s next move.
They kept on as the sun continued down from its peak, with Kardul continually winding them around the edges of the thickest patches of forest. Without warning, Kardul halted the lot of them at the edge of a large open field sitting between two dense stands of forest. Ferns and flowers covered the mostly flat ground, stretching more than three hundred strides long and almost as wide. Raised mounds of various sizes dotted the perimeter at the tree line. They looked unnaturally arranged and out of place, but otherwise unremarkable. In other places, ancient stone crumbling walls rose from the mounds. Long forgotten. What is this place? At first, Rogaan thought Kardul simply did not want to cross an open area and expose them all too eager eyes, but movement in the tree line at the far side of the flat patch made clear to him why the Kiuri’Ner kept them from advancing. A pair of golden-brown bull ravers adorned with red and black plumage on neck, arms, and tail prowled there, moving left to right as if searching or hunting.
Rogaan’s heart felt as if it filled his throat, and the rapid pounding of his blood deafened him. He tried to force himself to calm down, but it was more difficult than he expected. Ravers. Eight or more strides long, two-legged, scale-armored, flesh-hungry, always-angry fiends. If ever the Ancients created an animal with a dark side, it was these beasts, killing just not to feed, but for enjoyment. He looked about and saw that the sharur were just as uneasy. It did not make him feel any better, but he felt his emotions justified. Kardul simply sat upright in his saddle surveying the field and the ravers. The baraan appeared as calm as a rock. A single brown-and-white featherwing flew in circles above the open field with nothing in the sky bothering it. No leatherwings challenged it. Strange about that, Rogaan thought. Murmurs from the party brought Rogaan’s attention back to the ground. The golden-brown beasts disappeared from sight, stalking behind some heavy cover. Kardul then motioned for everyone to move out, leading them along the tree line on the lef
t side of the field where the forest was dense...impenetrable, actually. They had no escape if the ravers reappeared, but there was no other choice -- this open field looked to be the only passable path through this area. A shiver shuddered through Rogaan and he went from frustrated and uneasy to sweat-dripping scared.
They made their way as quietly and quickly as the sarigs could carry them short of running. When the line of steeds covered more than half the field’s length, Rogaan started feeling a little more at ease. The ravers were nowhere to be seen or heard, and Kardul was moments from clearing the field and disappearing into a forest trail at the southeast corner of the field. Rogaan’s sarig suddenly became skittish, missing several steps in its gait. He looked up to a shocking scene. His stomach sank so hard he thought he would sick up. Ravers burst out of the far tree line in clouds of broken branches and leaves, charging straight at them...at Kardul. The Kiuri’Ner pulled up his sarig and made to turn hard right when the ravers suddenly stopped a dozen lengthy strides in front of him with a swirl of dust, all the while snarling and growling. They blocked the way to the trail and escape. Kardul held his place and urged his steed to stay still. Ruumoor and his steed appeared to be stunned at the oppressive danger just strides away. Rogaan too felt stunned as his sarig danced nervously.
