"That is possible," Karl conceded as he gazed around the campsite. "As long as everyone is up, let's get the morning meal over with and get out of here."
The sky was beginning to lighten as the Alceans cleaned up the campsite and waited to depart. Lyron seemed to be his old self, and the spirits of everyone were higher than they had been in days. Clint retrieved his markers, which had not moved during the night, and prepared to take the lead. Fakir Aziz led his mule to Clint when he saw the direction the Ranger was preparing to go.
"I would suggest a bit more to the right," the historian said softly.
Clint looked at the old man with a puzzled frown. "Would you now? And what makes you think that is north?"
"I can feel it in my bones," smiled Fakir. "I guess it is a gift."
Fakir walked away, leaving the Ranger scratching his head. Karl Gree approached the Ranger and asked what the old man had said.
"He thinks north is slightly more to the right than I do."
"How sure are you?" asked Karl.
"I'm not very sure," admitted Clint, "but this is my best estimate based on the small amount of time we saw the sun yesterday."
Karl turned around and gazed at Fakir who had moved to the rear of the column. He turned and looked at the woods before him and sighed with the weight of the decision.
"Humor the old man," Karl finally decided. "It is not that much different than your proposed path, and you can make a check later in the day."
Clint nodded and started out of the clearing. Karl stood as everyone walked by until Fakir was leaving the clearing. The Knight of Alcea started walking alongside him.
"I see that your man has decided to take my advice," stated Fakir. "It is a wise man who can take the advice of others."
"It is a wiser man who tests the value of advice before blindly accepting it as wisdom," retorted Karl. "I told Clint to follow your suggestion. We will learn the validity of your hunch later on."
"Fair enough," smiled Fakir. "I see the elf has recovered quite well. That must be quite a relief for you. Why are you taking elves to Tyronia?"
The question caught Karl off guard, and he hesitated before issuing the standard reply. "We are caravan guards. We are heading to Tyronia for work."
"Can't say as I have ever seen a caravan with elven guards before," mused the old man. "One has to wonder who will be more shocked by that, the bandits or the Federation?"
"We try to maintain silence on the trail," Karl replied. "I need to make sure that we are not being followed. You continue onward with the rest of the group, and I will catch up shortly."
Karl stopped and let the column continue onward. Max and Shawn were the last two in the column, and Karl tagged Max to stop with him. They waited until the column was almost out of sight before Karl opened his breast pocket and stirred Peanut to life. He instructed the fairy to go to Garth and report on their status.
"I am not comfortable having fairies flying around in this forest," Karl added. "I want you to fly straight up until you are above the canopy. After you deliver the message, time your return for the morning meal. We will have a fire going, and you should not dive through the canopy until you locate us."
"And be stealthy with your return," added Max. "Remember that we have an outsider in the group. You should not be seen."
* * *
Clint halted the group a little before high sun. There was a huge clearing in the trees, but the Ranger had not given the signal to break for a meal, so Karl made his way to the front of the column. Spread out before the group was a ring of giant trees around the clearing and all of them were charred on the side closest to the clearing. In the center of the clearing was a bubbling pool of thick, red liquid. The land surrounding the pool was bleak and appeared fragile.
"I wouldn't get too close to it," advised Clint. "It looks like lava."
"Can we get around it?" asked Karl.
"We can," nodded Clint, "but it is an ideal place to take a reading on the sun. The break in the canopy is large, but I will need to move through the woods to the west for a bit. Can I take Chanz with me?"
"Why Chanz?" asked Karl.
"As a mate on the ship," explained Clint, "he may have a different way of measuring direction. I would like to compare the two. If we have indeed been traveling due north, we can put more faith in the old man's feelings in the future."
"Keep a careful eye on him," nodded Karl. "Remember that he is not a woodsman."
Clint nodded in agreement and signaled for Chanz to come forward. He explained what he wanted to do, and the two Alceans backtracked along the trail before turning to the west and disappearing. Karl watched the lava pool as it bubbled and sometimes sent high spouts of fire into the air. After a while, Karl grew anxious about the delay. He told the men to take their meal break as casually as he could, but he was worried about having to go after Clint and Chanz. Just as he was about to get Max to accompany him, the two Alceans appeared. Chanz went to join the sailors while Clint reported to Karl.
"You were gone a long time," Karl said softly.
"Sorry," replied Clint, "but I saw things that needed to be investigated. There is an old overgrown road leading to the lava pool. At the end of it is a stone altar that I think was used for sacrifices. The stone is discolored as if blood has stained it year after year."
"It sounds as if it was used some time in the past," frowned Karl. "It hardly matters much to us."
"That is how I felt at first," Clint continued, "but I think it is still being used. There were fresh tracks around it."
"How fresh?" asked Karl.
"Within a day or two," replied the Ranger, "but they aren't human tracks. They are the tracks of ogres."
"Ogres?" echoed the Knight of Alcea. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," nodded Clint. "I saw enough of them after the Battle of Tagaret to know what I was looking at."
"I didn't think ogres were very religious."
"Or intelligent," agreed Clint. "I do not think the altar was used by the ogres, but there must be some significance to the site if ogres still visit it. It is not like they are coming to this pool to drink out of it."
"I don't understand," frowned Karl. "Just because there were ogre tracks near the altar doesn't mean the ogres were there for a reason. They might have just happened by as you did."
"No, Karl," Clint shook his head. "The ogre tracks came from a variety of directions and converged on the altar. They gathered there intentionally."
Karl gazed back along the column of men and then asked, "How much does Chanz know?"
"Nothing," answered Clint. "He did not even see the altar. When we came across the old road, I got curious. I told him to stay put while I went off and investigated."
"That was hardly a good way to keep an eye on him," frowned Karl.
"I know," sighed Clint, "but he is trained to listen well. I did not want to take him with me, and it would have wasted too much time to bring him all the way back here. I used my best judgment."
Karl looked into Clint's eyes and after a moment he nodded. "What about the direction we have been traveling?"
"Due north," replied the Ranger. "The old man was correct."
"Then let's get this column moving," Karl said decisively. "I don't want to camp anywhere there might be ogres roaming around. Set a brisk pace and get us far away from here."
* * *
The Knights of Alcea boarded the ship without a problem, but Morro decided to wear a cloth cap to hide his ears and obscure his features. The Yio Clipper was a sleek craft, and the only cabin on the ship was reserved for the captain, so the mate showed them where they could sleep on the deck. He warned the passengers to stay clear of the seamen when they got underway and then abandoned them to get the ship ready to set sail. The captain didn't arrive onboard until just moments before the lines were cast off, and he paid the passengers no notice as the ship navigated out of the harbor.
Captain Carlos was a barrel-chested Tyronian, and he piloted the Yio
Clipper with a constant broad smile upon his face. He laughed heartily each time they sped past a Federation ship, which was quite often. The ship seemed to speed over the tops of the waves as the heavier cargo ships plowed through them. After a few hours of sailing, the number of Federation ships dwindled to almost nothing. At that point the captain called the mate to the helm and turned over the wheel to him. The captain stood next to the mate for several minutes talking until the mate pointed at the Alceans. The captain frowned as if he had been unaware that they even had passengers. He immediately strode forward to meet them.
"I am Captain Carlos," he announced in a husky voice. "Who are you all, and where are you going?"
"I am Garth Shado," replied Garth. "I am a special agent for Sidney Mercado, and these are my people. We are heading to Ur."
"Sidney Mercado," the captain echoed with respect as his eyes scanned the faces of each of the group. "I know Sidney, but I have never heard of you, Garth Shado."
Garth produced the letter from Sidney and held it out for the captain to read. The captain nodded in acceptance and handed the letter back.
"You're a long way from home," stated the captain as he stared at Kalina, "but there is no faster way to get to Ur than on the Yio Clipper. I am afraid that our accommodations are limited. We are not used to having women onboard."
"We will be fine on deck," Kalina replied. "We are just happy to be onboard and heading home."
The captain smiled at the response, but his expression turned grave as he stared at Morro. "Is the elf one of your party as well?" he asked brusquely.
"He is," replied Garth.
"He better be," Captain Carlos said sternly. "If I find that you have stolen an elf from the Federation, you will be disembarking without the benefit of land. Does Sidney know that you are bringing an elf into Tyronia?"
"Sidney has the highest faith in me," glared Garth, "and you would be well advised to avoid threatening me or any members of my party."
The captain was taken aback at Garth's words and steely gaze. He involuntarily took a step backwards to put more space between him and Garth Shado.
"There has never been an elf in Tyronia," the captain said defensively. "It just isn't done."
"He won't be staying long," replied Garth. "I have a delivery to make to Sidney at his estate and then we will be back on the road. Surely, Tyronia can suffer the presence of an elf for a few days."
"Perhaps it might be better if no one knows that he is an elf," suggested Kalina. "No one else on the ship appears to have noticed."
"Aye," nodded Captain Carlos. "It might be better for everyone concerned if his identity remains hidden. Keep his head covered so that the crew do not notice him. Tyronians can be unpredictable at times."
Garth nodded and Captain Carlos turned and walked away.
"I hadn't given much thought to elves being unwelcome in Tyronia," frowned Tedi. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Should I dive overboard and drown myself?" Morro asked bitterly.
"You will be welcome wherever we go, Morro," stated Garth, "but I do think we need to consider the implications of our actions. Prince Rigal and his men are also heading for Tyronia. What kind of reception will they receive?"
"We haven't heard from them in a while," said Natia. "I wonder how they are doing."
The question lingered all morning and all afternoon. The sun was beginning to slide towards the horizon when Peanut shot down out of the sky and landed on Garth's shoulder. Kalina immediately cupped the fairy in her hands, and the group moved to the very bow of the ship and sat down before she cautiously opened her hands.
"You must be more careful, Peanut," Kalina whispered. "You shouldn't be seen."
"No one was looking," frowned the green fairy.
"Tell us what is happening with the others," ordered Garth.
Peanut explained that the Alceans were deep in the Forest of Death and that Alando had died. He told about the sickness of Lyron and his recovery. He also reported the sudden appearance of Fakir Aziz and the explicit instructions for the fairy's return to Karl.
"I should be there with them," Kalina said. "It sounds like the Forest of Death is not a place to be without a mage."
"The Yio Clipper is too small a ship for you to transform without being noticed," stated Garth.
"Can these stories be true?" asked Morro. "Creatures dying and coming back to life? It sounds unbelievable."
"It is magical," answered Kalina. "It is a foul, dark magic and very powerful. Those men are not safe."
"And there is nothing that we can do about it," stressed Garth. "If we had known yesterday, we could have sailed with only four of us, but we cannot change that now."
"They will either be out of the forest or dead by the time this ship docks in Ur," frowned Natia.
"There are seven of the best warriors in the world in that group," declared Garth. "Never underestimate them."
"What about the old man?" asked Tedi. "His showing up in the middle of the forest cannot be a coincidence. Who is he?"
"It is no coincidence," agreed Garth. "Whoever he is, he needs to be watched carefully."
"The fairies can keep watch on him," offered Peanut.
"That is an excellent idea," smiled Kalina, "but you must make certain that he does not detect you."
"Mite and I will take turns," replied the little green man. "We will never be detected."
"Alright," smiled Garth. "Let me tell you what we are up to so that you can tell Karl in the morning."
Garth explained what their plans were and then released the fairy to return to the Forest of Death. By that time the sun had set and the sky was growing dark. The group spread out, and Garth and Kalina moved away from the others.
"I am very concerned about our people in the Forest of Death," Kalina said softly. "It is not a place for warriors to be."
"We have been through this already," sighed Garth. "We simply cannot help them. Besides, except for the death of Alando, they appear to be doing well. I am sure that Alando died before they realized the danger, but now they are aware of it."
"No, they aren't," retorted Kalina.
"What do you mean?" frowned Garth.
"The Forest of Death was not enchanted by accident," explained Kalina. "It was enchanted for a purpose. Someone doesn't want people tromping around in that forest for some reason. So far the men have encountered some of the effects of the enchantment, but there is a much greater danger that resides there. If they get too close to the truth, they will all die."
Chapter 16
The Gift
Fakir Aziz's face paled, and he nearly stumbled. He stopped and let go of the reins of his mule, and Max and Shawn stopped behind him.
"Are you all right?" Max asked with concern.
"Just a headache," Fakir mumbled. "Hold onto my mule for me."
Without waiting for a response, the philosopher strode forward, passing by the Alceans without explanation. The sailors and elves looked questioningly at the old man, but he ignored them as moved towards the leader of the column. When he reached Clint McFarren, he tugged on the Ranger's sleeve. Clint stopped and turned to stare at Fakir as the whole column came to a halt. The Ranger's eyes filled with curiosity as he saw the grimace on Fakir's face.
"Is something troubling you?" asked Clint.
"More to the right," grunted Fakir. "You must go more to the right."
Clint sighed and shook his head as he saw Karl walking forward. "I have not deviated from the course," stated Clint. "I know that you have some gift for directions, but I am quite sure that we are still going in the direction you pointed me several hours ago. There is no point in changing course again."
"More to the right," Fakir said louder. "Why must you argue?
"What is the problem?" asked Karl as he halted alongside the old man.
"Fakir wants me to go more to the right," explained Clint, "but I have been very careful to maintain a straight course since his last instructions."
&nbs
p; Karl glanced at Fakir and saw that the man was in some kind of distress. He feared that the old man might have a weak heart, and that notion did not sit well with him.
"Go more to the right," Karl decided. "Do you need help, Fakir?"
The old man shook his head and stepped away from the column to wait for his mule to catch up to him. Clint shrugged and turned slightly to the right and began leading the column again. Karl walked alongside the Ranger and waited until they had moved away from Fakir before speaking.
"Do you think he is deceiving us?" Karl asked Clint.
"I don't know what to think," sighed Clint. "I know that I didn't deviate from his prior instructions, and yet he decided to change course once again. For three days now he has been altering our course every couple of hours. He is up to something."
"Is there a pattern to the change in his directions?" asked Karl.
Clint frowned and remained silent for a moment as he pondered his answer. "Not that I can see. Most of the time he requests a change to the right, but several times it has been to the left."
"Could he be leading us in circles?"
"No," replied Clint. "The changes are not drastic enough for that, and they are not frequent enough to make us turn around. We are still heading northward for the most part."
"When was the last time you had a fix on the sun yourself?" asked the Knight of Alcea.
"Three days ago at the lava lake," answered Clint. "Why did you decide to humor him and overrule me?"
"He did not look well," Karl answered, "and I don't think a slight deviation is going to matter all that much to us in terms of getting out of this forest. Do you think you can remember all of the changes he has requested in the last three days?"
"Probably," frowned Clint. "Why do you ask?"
"You are an expert in mapmaking," answered Karl. "I was wondering if it would tell us anything if you charted the changes that Fakir requested over the last three days."
"I can give it a try when we stop for the night," replied Clint, "but the changes have not been that drastic. It's almost as if he were trying to avoid something."
Council of War Page 20
