Windcatcher: Book I of the Stone War Chronicles

by A. J. Norfield

  Nothing moved. Raylan looked at the dead end of the cave tunnel. On either side, a torch hung from the wall, softly flickering the last of its flames. From the looks of it, both torches had been burning for quite some time and would soon be extinguished.

  Against the back wall, on the ground, was the chest. At least Raylan figured it must be the chest they were looking for. The flames made it hard to see colors, but he was sure it was made of red wood with a golden metal frame. It fit the image of the chest that Xi’Lao described and Ca’lek said he saw.

  Raylan started to turn around, thinking he would go and get Xi’Lao right away, so she could confirm the item, when he suddenly heard the soft thud again. It was much louder than when he heard it from around the corner. He was certain it came from inside the chest. Cautiously, Raylan walked over to the chest and crouched next to it. Sheathing his sword, he put his free hand on the lid. His fingers followed the curve of the frame. The metal frame consisted of wide strips; big nails held the wood together. Strange symbols were drawn on the metal over the entire length of the chest. The wood seemed incredibly hard, with only minor superficial scratches from the travels in the wagon. While his hands trailed over the chest’s lines, he noticed the strangest thing; both the metal and the wood were very warm to the touch.

  Thud.

  Another unexpected knock from inside the chest startled Raylan.

  “You just survived an attack where the group was outnumbered three to one—not to mention that stone colossus that tried to smash in your head—and you jump at the sound of a small knock on wood,” said Raylan, grinning.

  Deciding to get to the bottom of this, he tried to open the chest, only to notice a big lock hanging from the side that kept the lid securely fastened. Using the hilt of his sword, he hit the lock a few times. It took at least four hits before he even saw it bend slightly. After another couple of hits, his efforts were rewarded as the broken lock dropped to the floor. He pushed open the lid with both hands. Warm air rose out of the chest, almost burning his skin. Gazing inside, Raylan tried to grasp what he was looking at. The bottom of the chest seemed to be filled with red hot glowing rocks and embers; and there, on top of these layers of stone and smoldering wood, lay the biggest egg he had ever seen.

  At first Ca’lek rode as fast as he could, until he realized that depending on the situation he might find, he may need to make a hasty retreat. Both he and Richard had set off right away to scout their assigned areas. Like the others, they did not want to be stuck in this dark and cold landscape any longer than necessary. Now, Ca´lek forced himself to spare his horse, while still traveling at a steady pace, to ensure he could complete the round-trip in time.

  Approaching the area of the cliff, Ca’lek slowed the horse to a walking pace. Deciding to go the last stretch by foot, he dismounted and secured his horse to a tree with a patch of brown grass around it.

  Softly, he stroked the horse’s nose.

  “Now be a good girl and wait for me here. I won’t be long.”

  It was not much for the horse to graze, but every little bit would be welcome. It was hard for the horses to find enough food, being in such an isolated place. The cold made it hard for plants to grow, and the grass that did grow was tough and stringy. Ca´lek hoped the tiny bit of grass would be enough to keep her busy while he checked out the surroundings.

  In comparison to where they had attacked the enemy’s camp, this area had a lot more trees. The only trees growing in these cold regions were the ones with thin needle-like leaves. Even in places where it was cold enough for snow to stay on the ground, such trees still kept their needles, often providing a welcome shelter against the cold rain. Because of the many trees on either side of the path, the surroundings were very dark. Even now, with the sun still climbing to the highest point in the sky, Ca’lek felt as if he was walking around at dusk or dawn. Since not a lot of sunlight reached the ground, there were very few bushes and other low plants between the trees. The ground was soft with fallen needles from the trees, making it easy to move quietly through the forest.

  The path they followed when they were tracking the enemy group had not been big as it snaked through the forest; but now that Ca’lek approached the cliff’s edge, that same path widened into a small clearing. He walked all the way up to the edge. Some bushes grew, as a natural barrier, right along the ridge. Ca’lek crouched next to them and let his gaze float over the valley below.

  Scouts in the army were selected by skill and eyesight. It was imperative for a scout to be able to distinguish between the different details out in the world, details like soft lights from a small house’s windows or the flickering of torches; a herd of cattle far away or an armed force riding on horseback—each often looked a lot like the other. Confusing danger for harmlessness would have devastating consequences.

  Ca’lek was born in the south region of Aeterra’s continent. Those parts still have much unclaimed land, with hot weather and vast deserts, completely different from where they were stuck now. He missed the warmth that he remembered from his younger years. Even in Aeterra, the summers rarely hit that sweet spot of high temperature with slow, warm winds. It was as if his darker skin tone craved the touch of the sun.

  Not that I´ll see the sun here any time soon, he thought, while looking up to the cloudy sky.

  A number of bigger cities dominated the southern coastline of the mid-continent, mostly focusing on fishery and trade. A lot of these cities were independently governed by the elite merchants located there, but the history of the southern mid-region was unstable at best, even in recent years. Small kingdoms rose and fell, as each new generation of leaders tried to seize power of a larger region. Tribes, located more inland, constantly waged war against each other, and even the large kingdom of Aeterra had to fend off a few attack forces over the last few decades.

  When Ca’lek and his parents lost their home during one of those skirmishes, they decided to pack everything up and make the long journey toward Aeterra. Driven to find a better future for their nine-year-old son, they spent many months on the road, before finally settling in one of the smaller cities on the grass plains of Aeterra. His father had always survived as an excellent hunter in a region where many dangerous animals lived. While Ca’lek, even at a young age, had often joined his father and the other men on their hunting trips. His father always made sure he got the needed experience to track their prey and scout the land for any possible dangers. Luckily, he had not just inherited his parent’s darker skin, but also his family’s exceptional eyesight, for which their bloodline had always been admired. It had allowed him to secure a spot in the army as a scout, when he was finding his own way in the world.

  Now Ca’lek let his eyes wander the land, reading it like his father had explained to him so many times. The valley stretched out westward before his feet. To the north, he saw the mountains of the White North loom on the horizon. Their black silhouettes were all covered with frozen white tops. As the barren slopes descended into the valley, the first needle trees stood as lonely mountaineers trying to scale the dangerous mountains. While below, a thick forest filled up the bottom of the valley. A thin silver line twisted through the valley. It was the cold-water river—which they followed for a number of days—that provided them with fresh drinking water. It eventually flowed more toward the south, going around the southern mountain range that join with the very foothills of the cliff he stood on. The valley slowly narrowed toward the path that led up to the cliff. On his right side, the path reached the top of the cliff only a small distance from Ca’lek’s position. From his current vantage point, he only saw the first turn as the path beyond was obstructed from view. The cliff dropped too steeply to see more of the path before it disappeared under the canopy of the needle forest.

  Looking past the tops of the southern mountains, Ca’lek saw a dark shimmer on the horizon. His experience and knowledge of the geographical layout of the continents told him that those were the shimmers of the cold, dark waters of
the Great Eastern Divide. Judging by the distance, the coast was at least a ten day journey, maybe more, depending on the terrain beyond those southern mountains. From there, it should be a number of days more to get to the northern most top of the Great Eastern Divide. Once there, the coastal area was actually a very small crossing between the oceanic waters and the first slopes of the White North, which were said to be almost impossible to cross. One could probably ride a horse and reach those lowest slopes from the coastal line in a day or two, maybe three.

  Aeterra’s trading ships had not always been solely westbound. Attempts had been made to map the coastline going along the edges of the Great Eastern Divide. Scouting vessels and pioneer trading ships had set sail—every so often—to try their luck, hoping to find fame and fortune; but very few actually returned from Doskova.

  Those sailors who did, told stories of dark cliffs rising out of the sea, and lands with thick, dark forests full of witches and trolls. Few people actually believed in those creatures, but a dark forest easily played tricks on your mind. The more reliable stories brought back news of savage tribes, hunting any who dared set foot on land, and no civilization to be found.

  Eventually, people gave up on trying their luck, it had been decades since an expedition set out to the east. The landmass to the east received the name Doskova more than two century ago. It was the old language—which was all but replaced—meaning ‘dark hollows’, most likely referring to the dark forests stretching the continent. In the now common Terran language, it was simply referred to as The Dark Continent.

  Many believed no civilized life could be found there, and evil forces were at work in those dark forests…Ca’lek included. But now, he was not so certain anymore, after all…those enemy soldiers were headed somewhere.

  As Ca’lek’s experienced gaze scanned the valley back and forth, his eyes caught movement far away, down in the valley. It was a part of the forest near the river that caught his eye. The forest opened up in some places, like holes in a worn down roof. It was there that he saw shadows move amongst the trees. Crouching down, he kept an eye on the shadows for some time, focusing on a part of the forest that opened up in a small clearing a little further along the path. It was the path they had followed some days ago, before it actually crossed the river. Holding his hand above his eyes to shield the direct sunlight from the rising sun, he saw multiple foot soldiers enter the clearing. Walking in rows of four, a group of twenty figures marched into the clearing, followed by a number of wagons each pulled by two horses.

  “That’s not good,” whispered Ca’lek under his breath.

  At least a hundred and fifty men crossed the clearing and moved across the river which, although very cold, was not very deep. Ca’lek remembered the clearing and the time they spent near the river, trying to catch fish. The fish were a strange variety, long and sleek. Their backs were dark, making them hard to spot against the dark soil of the river bottom, while their bellies were painted with all the colors of broken light. Their fishing was only mildly successful as the fish were deviously fast and slippery.

  The clearing was at least a full day’s ride from the cliff by horse, and this army moved at a slower pace than they had been riding; but there was no doubt in the scout’s head that they were moving his way…and coming up this mountain. The valley had no other exit in the direction the army moved.

  Ca’lek was still counting, when he became aware of distant, rapid thumping. Checking his surroundings, he saw nothing on the cliff responsible for the sounds, when he heard below him multiple shouts spurring on horses. Dropping flat on his stomach, he scrambled toward the edge. Sticking his head over the ledge, he looked to the path below. Although part of the cliff was still blocking his view, he saw four horsemen suddenly burst into view as they sped their horses up the path on the cliff toward him. They would be on him in a matter of moments; they were still briefly moving away from him—toward the final turn—before the switchback brought them to the final climb and on top of the cliff. With no moment to spare, Ca’lek rolled himself under the bushes, crawling backward out of sight of the rapidly approaching horsemen.

  He heard the hooves come closer as the riders steered their horses onto the plateau and into the clearing. Once at the top, the first rider pulled hard on his reins, bringing his horse to a sliding halt. It was a maneuver with no regard for the safety of the animal, as the loose gravel in the clearing could have easily made the horse lose its footing and fall down with danger of serious injury to its legs.

  The rider laughed loudly as he turned his horse around to regard the others who were bringing their own mounts to a halt. Boasting another laugh, Ca’lek heard the rider’s deep voice talk a language he did not understand. It sounded thick on the tongue; and although he listened intently, he could not understand any of it. The rider swung his leg forward over the horse and jumped to the ground, grabbing the reins to lead his horse to a nearby tree. These men were built large and muscular, but their movements were quick and nimble, especially the rider who had apparently just won a race. The others slowly followed his example, while laughing and talking back to the winner.

  Walking away from Ca’lek, he clearly saw the group was a scouting party, most likely riding ahead of the main force he had spotted crossing the river. The soldier that dismounted first had a completely shaved head, with a rugged long beard. His dark armor protected vital parts, much like their squad’s own leather armor. The protection was tied together with thick leather straps, giving a lot of freedom for movement of arms and legs. The only metal present was in the shoulder plates, which were the same black color as the leather.

  Below the armor, he saw the entire body covered by black drawings, patterns and symbols across the arms and chest. Some of them even had the black patterns on their face. These guys seemed to be built for speed. Quick in and out tactics. Short sword on the back, a knife on the side of the belt and another strapped to each of the leather boots they were wearing. Two of the other riders had long hair, which was braided together roughly, and beards rivaling the first. The forth looked a bit younger—or perhaps, it was just his shorter dark hair and no beard—apart from the afternoon shadow covering his jawline.

  Once the horses were tied up, two of the men started making a campfire, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Ca’lek moved backward under the bush carefully, to guarantee he was out of view. The bushes did not have thick leaves, and the only reason they did not spot him was because they moved away from the ledge to have a break and perhaps to eat something. He tried to move back further, but his feet were already dangling over the ledge of the cliff. Turning himself around slowly, and as quietly as possible, he checked over the edge. It was a long, straight drop down…a fall would surely kill him; but he spotted a narrow ridge just below the overhang he was on. Hearing one of the men suddenly raise his voice, he glanced back at the riders in time to see the rowdy winner of the race get up and walk toward him. A small panic sparked in his brain.

  Did they spot me?

  It did not seem so, as the soldier said something over his shoulder to the small group around the fire; he was not even looking Ca’lek’s way.

  A second man jumped up and followed him toward the edge of the cliff. Ca’lek had to move quickly or he would be spotted for sure. Looking back over the edge, he moved his body sideways over the ledge, his stomach sliding across the ground. If he could reach the ridge, hopefully, the overhanging cliff would shield him from sight.

  The two soldiers slowly approached the bushes that hid him less than two arm’s lengths away. He actually saw their feet approach, through the opening underneath the bushes. As he leaned on his elbows, his dangling feet searched for the ridge, touching nothing but air. Gripping the ledge with both his hands, he lowered himself even more, until his arms stretched all the way. He looked down into the depth below him, it was enough to make his head spin. Quickly focusing on the wall in front of him, he tried to see the ridge he had spotted from the top. The change in view
point made it tricky to see, as he found himself looking lower than needed, at first. The ridge was actually at knee height for him now; but it was more toward the actual rock wall, so his feet overshot the safe haven. Quickly, he pulled his legs up onto the ridge. Having support for his feet, he dared to let one hand go to find a fingerhold to use as a handle to pull himself onto the safety of the ledge.

  Just as he released his second hand, he heard the two soldiers move through the bushes and come to a stop right above him. As the two soldiers positioned themselves, their boots kicked gravel forward which idly rolled off the cliff past him. He had to fight the urge for his gaze to follow the small falling stones, to prevent himself from leaning forward and perhaps losing his balance. He pressed himself actively against the mountain wall, turning his knees sideways as much as possible. He did not know how much they could see over the edge of the cliff, so the more he flattened himself against the wall the better. The two soldiers quietly shuffled above his head. Right at the point that he wondered what they were doing, a thick, steady stream of yellow liquid dropped off the top of the cliff, as one of the soldiers let out a sigh of relief. A second stream soon followed, as he heard one of the men make an incomprehensible comment that both of them laughed at it.

  Finishing up their business, Ca’lek heard them talking to each other. Glimpsing upward, he saw one of the men talk to the other, arm stretched across the cliff’s edge, pointing toward the area where he saw the larger group of soldiers cross the river. It seemed that they were discussing something about it, but he could not understand a word they said. The language that they spoke was unlike any he had heard before, and Ca’lek doubted if the language existed at all on the mid-continent. One of the men turned around, slapping the other guy’s shoulder, as both started to walk back toward the fire.