Prophecy's Ruin bw-1

by Sam Bowring

  …there is fear here …

  He froze, blood cold, then reined in his horse. Behind him, M’Meska had to rein in hers abruptly or else run into him. She grunted in irritation.

  ‘Why stop?’ she demanded. ‘Move on!’

  ‘Did you hear something?’ asked Bel. ‘A voice?’

  ‘No,’ said the Saurian. ‘Nothing but my stomach complaining, wanting not stand here chitty-chat. Move!’

  Bel urged his horse on, glancing about uneasily. He could have sworn he’d heard words, soft yet unmistakable in the eerie quietness. They arrived at the barracks, where soldiers were waiting. The grounds were nothing but a field of dirt, the building itself tiny in comparison to the complex at the Open Halls. It looked as functional as it needed to be and nothing more. Munpo started talking to a tall, lean woman, while Gredda barked orders for them to dump their things and assemble immediately in the dining hall.

  As Bel led his horse to the stables, Keit fell into step beside him. ‘I don’t care for those whispering trees,’ he said.

  ‘Would you prefer it if they spoke up?’ Bel answered, and Keit shot him a smile.

  …simpleton soldier …

  Bel spun this way and that, again seeking the origin of the voice. Still, there was nothing there.

  •

  The dining hall was full of draughts that stole the warmth from its iron fireplace. The soldiers sat at parallel tables, smells from the kitchen making their stomachs rumble. The town commander of Drel stood before them, flanked by Munpo and Pelar, the Citizen Prime.

  The commander was an athletic man called Rokinin, who had stringy brown hair and deep-set eyes. ‘As I’ve told your troop leader,’ he informed them, ‘we don’t know how big the brood is, as we’ve only seen their hunting packs. You may know that hugger broods can vary significantly in size, so I can’t give you a total count …but with a large brood, which this looks like being, there may be over a hundred, which means up to forty male hunters. We suspect they were forced to move from deeper in the forest, for, some days before they arrived, we saw signs of a great fire at its heart.’

  ‘How many have you killed?’ asked Hunna. Gredda looked as if she might snap at him to be quiet.

  Rokinin’s eyes darkened. ‘We don’t know,’ he replied, and raised a hand as muttering broke out. ‘Please, soldiers, I will answer your questions as best I can. Two weeks ago, my own soldiers numbered thirty, almost two full troops. The outer regions of the forest are not usually hazardous and in the past we have easily dealt with any of the problems that arose. But two weeks ago came the huggers’ first, and most successful, attack on Drel. Some of the trees had grown branches over the walls; foolishly, we thought nothing of it. One day, without warning, huggers dropped into our town. In the forest they stay in packs, but in this instance I think they were overcome by the amount of available prey. They spread to all parts of the town. There aren’t many here who didn’t lose a relative or friend.’

  Bel remembered the grim faces he’d seen on their way down the road.

  ‘To make matters worse,’ continued Rokinin, ‘six of my blades were in the forest at the time, searching for a woodsman who’d gone missing. When we discovered there were huggers about, I immediately sent others to fetch them back in.’ He wet his lips. ‘Of those six all we found were the signs of a fight. I have no way of knowing how many huggers they killed before they were dragged off. We never found the woodsman, and several other forest-dwelling families are also missing. All the others are now within our walls.

  ‘The next day I took half my soldiers with me into the forest to find the nest. We were attacked a league in by some twenty, twenty-five males. It was too many, more than I’d expected. We must have been close to the nest, for there was a larger beast too, who looked to be the dominant male. We retreated. We killed some of them, but again, how many I cannot say.’ He glanced at Hunna as he said this, then sighed. ‘They got five of us that time, and the rest barely made it back alive. Perhaps I was foolish to take out so few soldiers, but I did not guess the size of the brood; nor did I wish to leave the town unguarded.

  ‘Since then a hunting pack has attacked the town again, though no more townsfolk have fallen. Unfortunately a group of woodsmen snuck out one morning, led by one who had lost his young daughter in the first attack. They were stupid and angry and brave, and we mourn their passing. Again, I do not know how many they killed before they were killed themselves.

  ‘Tomorrow I will lead you myself to where I believe the nest to be. I will bring four of my own soldiers, leaving only ten to defend the town, and that is not enough. I had hoped I’d conveyed the seriousness of our situation to the Halls so they might send more than one troop. That said, your troop leader assures me you are some of the best, and I am thankful indeed to have you.’

  Bel wondered if it was unusual for a commander to be so forthcoming in a briefing. The man seemed to have been badly shaken by his experience here, though he was obviously trying to appear resolute. The actual effect, Bel thought, was that he seemed weak.

  The Citizen Prime, Pelar, cleared her throat. ‘I’m just as concerned as Rokinin that an extra troop is not enough,’ she said. ‘It simply brings us back up to how many soldiers we had here in the first place.’

  ‘Before we were surprised and severely damaged, Pelar!’ snapped Rokinin. It became instantly apparent that relations were frayed within the Drel hierarchy. ‘I lost six blades before I even knew it!’

  ‘Citizen Pelar,’ said Munpo in his creaky voice, ‘Commander Rokinin is right. He was on the back foot from the start. But now we can go in force together to hunt these animals, who have also been weakened by many attacks. Even if there were forty male hunters originally, which, frankly, would surprise me, we’ll overcome them. I’ve some of the best archers in the Halls here, and experienced blades too. We’ll free you of this menace, wait and see.’

  •

  Bel stripped off his soldier’s garb, changing into trousers and a white cotton shirt. Keit and Hunna were going to the tavern, against Munpo’s warning that they should take their rest. They wouldn’t go for very long, and Bel knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Just a round of cards and an ale or two.

  …drink won’t fill the void in here …

  Bel stood very still, a sheen of moisture prickling his forehead. There was no one else in the room, and the door was shut. This time he couldn’t ignore what he had plainly heard.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.

  No one answered.

  ‘I said, who’s there?!’

  …interesting …

  ‘What?’ Bel almost shouted. He restrained himself, getting his breathing under control. ‘What’s “interesting”?’

  Another pause, then: You can hear me?

  This time the voice was clearer, louder.

  ‘Yes!’ said Bel. ‘I can hear you, you damned will-o’-the-wisp! Where are you?’

  …so close …

  Again the voice was muted, more of an understanding than a definite sound. Then it became clearer again.

  I’m watching over you, Blade Bel.

  Bel swallowed at the sound of his name. ‘Are you a spirit?’

  …no …

  Yes.

  Bel sat down heavily on the bed. What was happening?

  •

  Iassia struggled to shield himself against Bel’s booming thoughts. It was difficult to cloak his presence; Bel had no actual psychic skill, but the proximity of their minds was letting him sense Iassia. What was worse, Bel heard not only those thoughts that Iassia directed towards him deliberately but also Iassia’s private thoughts, albeit more dimly. It was like being trapped before a huge blind beast that swiped randomly with its claws – some blows connected, some missed.

  It was all very ironic, Iassia reflected. As a result of entering Bel’s mind to work out how to kill him, Iassia now needed to keep the man alive. If Bel was killed in Drel Forest, Iassia would be cut loose, a lost ghost. He neede
d Bel to make it back to Treewith alive, so he could reconnect with his body. In the meantime, the ‘spirit’ question had given him an idea.

  Blade Bel, he directed. You are the blue-haired child of power, destined to destroy the shadow. Is that not correct?

  ‘Nobody knows that,’ said Bel.

  Arkus knows it. Did you think Arkus would not send help to his greatest champion?

  Iassia felt Bel register the words, which inflated his ego but did not dispel his doubts.

  I am a good spirit, continued Iassia, sent by Arkus to aid you in your coming trials. You journey to your first battle, do you not?

  ‘Yes,’ said Bel slowly.

  I will help protect you.

  ‘How?’ asked Bel suspiciously.

  By warning you of danger. I can tell you what is around you. If there was a man hiding around a corner waiting to do you harm, I could tell you. And it works just the same with huggers in trees.

  ‘Forgive me, oh disembodied voice,’ said Bel, ‘but this all sounds a bit strange.’

  Yet you take it in your stride, said Iassia. Because you’ve always known, haven’t you, that you are special? An extraordinary man, Bel, will likely lead an extraordinary life.

  Again he felt that powerful ego, like a huge muscle flexing. Bel wanted to believe, and Iassia was winning him over.

  Even now, when a lesser man would run shrieking from the room, you are not fazed.

  ‘Oh, I’m very fazed, believe me,’ said Bel. ‘I just can’t decide if you exist or not. But whether I’m mad or you’re telling the truth, running isn’t going to do me much good, is it?’

  I suppose not.

  ‘If you were sent by Arkus as you say, why have I been hearing you all day yet you only address me clearly when I demand it of you?’

  Iassia faltered. It was a good question.

  I had to wait until we were alone . If I’d announced myself sooner, your comrades would have wondered why you were talking to yourself.

  ‘I see.’ Bel considered this, and it seemed to make sense to him. ‘My tutor was the High Mage,’ he continued. ‘He taught me much about the stranger creatures of the world. And while he said nothing of Arkus-granted ghosts, he did mention something of trickster entities who cannot always be seen.’

  Ah, yes. That is a valid concern. Let me promise you this, then: I will never do anything without your permission or against your will. I won’t suggest courses of action; only help you in those endeavours you choose to undertake. If ever you ask me to leave, I shall. It was a bit of a gamble, but Iassia knew he had no choice. Would a trickster make such promises?

  ‘If he was being a trickster,’ said Bel.

  Would you have me leave, then?

  ‘No,’ Bel said quickly. ‘Well …not yet. I must –’

  There was a knock at the door. Keit opened it. ‘You coming?’ he said.

  Bel glanced about the room as if undecided.

  ‘Oh, come now,’ said Keit. ‘You aren’t crawling off to bed early again, are you? You really think you’ll get any sleep before your first true bloodshed? Come and sit with us a while, at least.’

  If we go to the tavern, I can prove my worth. Then you can decide whether or not to keep me.

  ‘Of course I’m coming,’ said Bel. ‘I just don’t know where I put my money pouch. Ah – here it is.’

  •

  Bel, Keit and Hunna sat in the tavern by the fireplace, with mugs in hand and cards on the table. It was an old place with a low roof, the stuffed heads of animals hanging on the walls. Despite the dancing firelight, the atmosphere was sombre. The townsfolk present had glanced at the soldiers when they’d entered, raised their glasses in silent salute, then gone back to their hushed discussions. The blades had expected to find some of the town’s soldiers here, but when Keit asked the barmaid where they were, she said they were either guarding or sleeping – there weren’t enough of them for time off. So they sat alone, Hunna dealing out cards, Bel distracted by his ethereal new companion.

  You can speak to me in thought, Bel. I will hear you.

  What’s your name?

  Iassia.

  So how are you going to “prove your worth”, Iassia?

  I can tell you what cards your opponents are holding. It will then be your choice whether to win or lose against them.

  All right, let’s try that.

  For the next several hands, Iassia whispered the value of Keit’s and Hunna’s cards. Soon Bel had most of the copper in front of him.

  ‘Of all the luck!’ complained Hunna, pushing the last of his coins towards Bel. ‘Hope you’re as good with your sword as your cards!’

  So Arkus has sent me a “good spirit” to help me cheat at cards? thought Bel.

  Iassia chortled good-naturedly. Just a harmless example of greater powers, Blade Bel. Imagine being able to outstep real opponents with such help.

  Iassia could sense that he’d succeeded. Bel had been groomed his whole life to believe he was special. Arrogance, vanity and ego combined to allow him to believe Iassia’s wild lies. If the situation had not been so dire, Iassia would have been impressed with himself.

  ‘Well,’ said Keit, ‘I think I’ve lost enough coin. And we should all make it an early night.’

  The soldiers rose and made their way into the night. Somewhere nearby a shout went up, followed a ferocious snarl.

  ‘That way!’ said Keit. They ran towards the sounds, and as they neared the walls the shouting grew louder, accompanied by a sound like a monstrous cat. ‘Huggers!’ muttered Keit. ‘I’d recognise that sound anywhere.’

  They rounded a corner and arrived at the wall. The commotion was coming from ground level, where Rokinin was pulling his bloodied sword from the breast of a horrid beast. A bow lay against the wall clutching a slash wound in his arm. From outside the wall came a screeching in the trees.

  They do not intend further attack, came Iassia’s voice in Bel’s head. They are merely testing the town’s defences.

  Soldiers on the platform above came running from both sides. Bows fired into the night, but there were no sounds of impact. The screeching died away.

  ‘They’re leaving,’ Rokinin said. ‘The leap from the tree line is too long for them now. Only this beast made it over the wall.’

  That’s untrue, said Iassia. Many could have made the jump, but only one tried.

  Rokinin kicked the dead creature savagely, snapping its face towards Bel. Bel felt a chill as he stared into its eyes – yellow with tiny black pupils, hateful in death. It was one thing to hear a monster described, quite another to see one in the flesh. The body was the size of a large dog, though its limbs were long and ape-like, with retractable claws extended from the pads of its hands and feet. It was covered in mossy brown-green fur, which grew longer about its head. Its mouth was wide and lipless, an almost invisible line in the fur, and there were no nostrils in evidence. It stank of wet hair.

  ‘I forgot how much I hate these filthy beasts,’ said Hunna, prodding the corpse with his sword.

  Keit grunted. ‘Come on. There’s nothing more to do here. Let’s get some sleep.’

  Twenty

  Drel Forest

  All around, soldiers crept through the undergrowth of Drel Forest. Bel could only see a few of the others, despite how closely together the group was moving. The undergrowth was a verdant sprawl of ferns and shrubs, which shimmered here and there as someone knocked down a cascade of dew. To his left, Munpo disappeared around a mossy boulder at the base of a towering clawberry tree and Bel hurried to keep up. He had wanted to partner with Keit, but that morning Munpo had ordered him to stay close. He didn’t feel he needed to be babysat by the leader of the group, but orders were orders. He pushed through entwining vines and found Munpo speaking to Rokinin. Both had their eyes turned to the trees above.

  ‘Yes,’ muttered Rokinin. ‘We are close.’

  Munpo gave a low whistle and Gredda materialised by his side. Munpo pointed through the trees. ‘We’ll ma
ke for that clearing,’ he said. Gredda nodded and disappeared again. Munpo glanced around to make sure Bel was following.

  ‘We’re headin’ for a clearing,’ he said in a low tone, ‘because we can assemble in collected force there, and watch each other’s backs. The bows will have better shots without trees in the way, and they can stay in the centre firing outwards while the blades protect them in an outer circle. If we are near the nest, as Rokinin suspects, they should notice us here soon enough.’

  Together they ducked beneath an overhanging branch covered in fungus.

  ‘I thought huggers preferred an ambush,’ said Bel.

  ‘They prefer an ambush if possible,’ said Munpo. ‘But we’ll be inside their perceived territory, so I reckon they’ll come howlin’ along pretty quick.’

  Bel glanced around. No one else was close. Why was he getting this private explanation?

  ‘I’ll be all right, you know,’ he said, managing to disguise his irritation as bland reassurance. ‘I’ll understand your orders once the battle starts, just like the others.’

  ‘Good to know, laddy. That ain’t why I’m tellin’ you this.’ Munpo paused in the shadow of a fig and sniffed the air. Birds sang in the canopy, an opera of melodic calls. ‘If you’re to be a leader,’ he continued, ‘and Taskmaster Corlas assures me that the Throne is takin’ a personal interest in your military career, then the more you know the better. That’s why I asked you to dog my heels today. You might learn somethin’ about strategy and command. If you’d rather run off and play chasings with Keit, be my guest. Up to you.’

  ‘Apologies, sir,’ Bel said quickly. ‘Just thought I was being spoonfed there.’

  ‘You were,’ said Munpo. ‘It was just a bigger spoon than you thought.’

  I sense an approach, came the voice of the spirit. Thrills went up and down Bel’s spine, every sense alert.

  Where are they?

  To the east. Still some distance, but they know we’re here and they are coming.

  They arrived in the clearing, which had silently filled with soldiers. It was some fifteen paces wide, a mound of earth with stones peeping out of it like boils on a backside. From the centre outwards lay a fallen tree, its twisted roots exposed to the air. Above, branches from other trees were jealously vying to reclaim the gap left in the canopy.