Whill of Agora: Book 03 - A Song of Swords

by Michael Ploof

  Always there is a coward at your back, coward at your back, coward!

  "Stop it." Aurora pleaded as she began rocking herself.

  Always there is a coward at your back, coward at your back, coward!

  "Silence!" She yelled clamping her hands over her ears.

  Coward at your back, coward at your back. The voice hissed inside her head.

  "Stop."

  But it would not stop. She saw not the room before her but only the vision within her mind. She closed her eyes only to see the face, his face, the one she had wronged so.

  Coward.

  She had betrayed Whill and befriended him. She had raised her hand against his dearest friend; she had tried to kill him.

  Coward at your back.

  "I had no choice!" She screamed. "It was for the good of my people."

  Coward, coward, coward at your back...

  "Stop!" Aurora bolted upright in bed, the lovebirds flew from the sill startled, but the voice had stopped. It had been a dream within a dream. Knees drawn to chin she held herself for a long time, and she cried. In her despair she called upon her goddess, she who sees all deeds and judges them not, she of cold and wind, ice and snow. To her goddess Skadia she prayed for strength, she of the harsh winter. Her mind settled, her emotions abated, and her thoughts became as placid as a frozen lake. Weakness, doubt, sorrow and despair, these were the ways of death. Only the strong survived the unforgiving motherland. In her long exile from Volnoss, she had softened in the warm sun, had forgotten what it meant to struggle against the unyielding tundra. She had grown weak.

  The last few days in Cyrushia had been pleasant. She had allowed herself to indulge in the pleasantries of the flesh, pampered and catered to like a princess. But no more, she must realign herself with her mission, her destiny, her fate. She had left Volnoss in search of an answer, a way to secure her people's future in the changing landscape of the world. And she had found it. Eadon had promised her title and treasure, and more importantly the ancient Agoran homeland of her people. In return, she had given her fealty. Whill had promised her people freedom, and a place in the new Agora. She knew that Eadon's offer came with the shackles of slavery, but she had already spoken, and promises made to Eadon where written in blood.

  She rose from her bed hungry from her slumber. The fruit and vegetables in abundance in her well stocked pantry would no longer do it. No matter how much of it she ate her hunger was never sated. No, she thought, it is time I hunt.

  The idea of a fresh kill invigorated her and she was roused to her feet. The abandoned the elven light flowing gowns and dressed in her furs. She rummaged through her many gifts and came up with a suitable bow. The string drew back smoothly and a good tension was held by the smooth dark hardwood. It was a longbow, but it would suffice. Satisfied she took up her belt and sheathed her sword and made her way out into the city.

  The day was mild and she wished it colder. She had never known a summer as hot as the season last. At first it had been pleasant, but soon the novelty of ever-warmth wore off and she found herself longing to see her breathe in the chill night.

  Outside elves seemed to be everywhere. She looked around past the pyramids and crystal formations to the trees beyond. The vast shelf of cliffs that made up the Thousand Falls loomed to the east, and Aurora considered scaling it. She quickly changed her mind when she looked to the jungle to the west. The long hanging bows and thick canopy offered her foreign game, perhaps even danger. She walked towards the jungle politely nodding and smiling at the passing elves. She was very tired of feeling new. When she saw Kreshna she quickly ducked behind a fountain and took the closest bridge. Though the bridge took her in the wrong direction, it brought her away from the inquisitive elf. She was in no mood to talk right now; she was in the mood for meat.

  Soon she was traveling swiftly down the vine walkways, some bringing her up and over the water, some down through moss lined tunnels. She came to the end of such a road and bounded into the jungle beyond. As soon as the thick foliage hid the city behind her she stopped and crouched low. She closed her eyes and breathed in her surroundings. Eyes open she took up the earth at her feet and smelled it. She sniffed the tree next to her, and the large red ferns that surrounded her. Her ears perked to the many sounds of the jungle. Random screeches and shrieks, singing birds and quick rustling of leaves played against a constant orchestra of whining heat bugs and a faint collective slither.

  Aurora did not recognize the sounds of any of the animals, and she was elated by the challenge. She sprang to her feet and she ran. Hunger fueled her and the promise of the kill beckoned. Her muscular legs pumped harder and her feet were eager to comply. She sped through the jungle as though her barbaric frame weighed half its two hundred fifty stones. Over streams and under tangled vine she went, her senses tuned to every sensation, her body in harmony with the hunting grounds.

  Soon she had found a game trail that began on the stony shores of a trickling creek. She sprinted down it deeper into the jungle. The tracks proved too small for her choice of game and she veered off the trail to run up the mossy bark of a fallen tree wide enough to allow two abreast. She charged up the log and where it had broken against another she leapt high into the air and with strong hands held fast a hanging vine. She fell for a few feet and was about to drop and roll when it caught. She kicked her legs and swung nearly to the ground and quickly up until she knew the vine was at its limit. Twenty feet up she released the vine to take another. She traveled this way until she found what she was looking for. She swung high and before her momentum turned at the top of the swing she grabbed hold of another vine and rode the two straight down to the jungle floor.

  Aurora crouched and listened to the watering hole she had spotted. The soft trickle of the water emptying into a wide pond told her that it ran from the east, likely a branch of the waters that flowed over the Thousand Falls and into the ocean. Life teamed everywhere in the elven jungle. She had been bitten by a host of insects, none of which it seemed where poisonous. A snake which she thought must have been the king of his kind had almost been mistaken for a vine as she swung, but its fat middle had given it away. Likely the bulge had been its latest meal, and judging by its size it could have been a goat. Such a variety of birds there were that Aurora was overwhelmed by the beauty of their pluming headdresses and brilliant tails. Some had long curving beaks of yellow and purple, others were all black with strange shaped color patterns on their tail feathers only. These birds were nothing like the hawks and owls of Volnoss, whose color range consisted of black, brown and white. Given the world of snow and ice from whence she came, the elven jungle was a banquet of colors.

  A variety of animal tracks both large and small dotted the muddy bank beyond the stones which mingled with the water. One in particular caught her eye, a split-hooved track that looked like that of a boar. She recognized also feline tracks nearly as large and knew that they belonged to an adult cat of some sort, perhaps a sabre. For the cat tracks to be dwarfed by that of the boar, it must have been large, and to survive as such a plump treat to the many predators of the jungle it had to be tough. Likely it had deadly tusks like curved blades with which it defended itself. She hoped to find out.

  Aurora went to the water's edge downstream from the pond and found suitable soil to use, dark wet mud. She put down her bow and lathered black mud all over herself. She rolled in it until she was sure every inch of her body was covered. Taking up her bow once again she doubled back to the pond and found a suitable tree and climbed it until she found a good perch from which to watch.

  She watched and she waited. The mud helped against the bugs. She became like the tree as she stood leaning amidst the thick drooping leaves and curtains of thin flowered vines which hung like tattered rags from the canopy above. The wind seemed never to find this deep haven, and her furs had become laden with her sweat. The air had been chill in the city, but here it was nearly sweltering and thick with humidity. But the cool mud proved useful in thi
s regard as well.

  She waited high above the waters in anticipation of the coming prey. For a time incalculable due to the lack of sky she watched and waited and finally something approached. A rustling began behind her far below in the vegetation. Knowing that a chipmunk could sound like a wolf on the forest floor she could not tell its size. But when its feet fell upon solid earth she could guess at its length. She dared not move and scare it off, hoping that it was the giant bore. It continued on beneath her towards the water none the wiser and soon she could see it as it passed her tree.

  Balancing upon two branches with only a shoulder to the tree to steady her she knocked an arrow slowly hoping that it did not creak. Her heart hammered in her chest as she beheld the beast below. It fearlessly moved to the water and drank noisily. It was indeed a boar and none like she had ever seen. She saw quickly how it could survive in such a place, its hide was covered in large plates of armor and tusks like daggers descended up its snout to its ears. Aurora pulled back her bow and let her breath out long and slow. She aimed for the crease in its plating behind the right shoulder and fired. The elven arrow flew true but deflected off of the plate armor with a twang. The horned hog didn't scatter; rather it turned with a snort and looked directly at Aurora with beady black eyes not befitting its horse sized head. It charged the tree she stood perched in and slammed into it with enough force to shake it. The horned hog reared and charged it again and again until Aurora found herself having to hang on. It backed up to the water's edge and snorted dripping snot from its large wet snout. It tore up big chunks of earth with its deadly tusks and sent it flying in all direction, clearly challenging Aurora. She stood tall upon the branches and answered the challenge with a war cry and leapt from the tree. As she fell she unsheathed her longsword and came down upon the hog with a powerful blow. But the horned hog proved surprisingly agile and darted toward the tree as if to charge it once again. Aurora landed and rolled once to absorb the impact and spun to her feet. The hog had already turned swiftly and was now charging her headlong, its tusks aiming to skewer her. She hacked at it as it charged past and landed a blow to the side of the head that left the hog stumbling in the underbrush. It reared on her violently and she came down once again with her heavy blade. She put all of her strength into the blow and this time broke two tusks and drew blood. Infuriated, the horned hog thrashed and tore at the earth. Aurora braced herself and the hog charged once again. It came straight at her, but she held her ground until it was almost upon her. As it barreled in Aurora spun out of the way and came around to plunge the blade between the thick plate armor near the hog’s hindquarters. The blade sunk deep and Aurora held of tightly as the hog thrashed and bucked. Aurora pulled the blade free and the enraged boar turned on her with an open maw. She put all her might into a blow that broke teeth and cut through the beast's mouth splitting its head wide. The hog lurched and squealed but if came out only as wet gurgling. It fell to its side spent and Aurora was upon it in a flash. She positioned the blade between the armor plating of its shoulder and stabbed down and through the boar's heart. It tensed and died with a wheeze.

  Aurora sat there panting electrified by the fight. Here stomach reminded her why she had ventured into the jungle and she went to work opening the breastplate. It was hard work but eventually she laid the chest of the boar open and cut out the large glistening heart. Aurora raised the heart to the heavens and said a prayer to her goddess and the animal's spirit. When she had finished she brought the heart to her lips and tore a chunk from it and ate. The heart of the horned boar was warm and melted in her mouth. She went into blood frenzy then, dancing and thrashing about. An energy that she had not known for a long time came rushing back to her, the strength of the beast.

  Chanting her people's songs she set to work building a fire of deadwood. As the fire took on a life of its own she began gutting and quartering the boar. The guts she left for the scavengers, there would be no sign of the mess come morning. The plate armor took some time to remove from the hog’s thick flesh; once it was stripped bare the job went quickly. With her heavy longsword she chopped off the legs, rump included, and hung them to bleed from vines. She took off the head and hung it also, and cut the huge ribs from the spine. With her sword she chopped down small trees and made the frame of her smoking spit. It had to be wide and tall, and strong enough to hold the heavy slabs of meat; many strong hanging vines would help with that.

  Once it was completed she carefully positioned the meat just over the raging fire. By now the wood that had been slow to catch was blazing, having had hours to grow. She knocked down the blazing logs and with her long poker spread the coals out evenly. The meat sizzled and the juices only added to the fire's fury. She let the meat char and set about gathering the large leaves nearby. When she added the leaves to the fire the smoke stopped altogether but then bellowed forth from beneath. The leaves were wet enough to last awhile, so Aurora set to making camp there a dozen paces from the watering hole.

  With her sword she cleared a wide birth around her fire. An hour of cutting trees into spears left a barrage of pointed shafts jutting out in every direction. It was hard to tell where the sun was, but it was well past noon, she figured a few hours remained before sundown. If this jungle was anything like the dark forests of Volnoss, Aurora knew that it would change into a different beast altogether. Creatures that now slumbered would surface to claim the night, and lesser creatures would cower in their dens. The smell of the smoking meat would bring them too, likely in legion. She had to show the predators of the night that she was not prey; tonight she was queen of this jungle.

  She added a few more logs on the fire and a fresh topping of leaves and checked the nearest piece. It was coming along well, by morning it would be ready for transport. With the last remaining hours of light she set to work making a cone tent with trees and leaves. She set two more fires by carrying hot coals in a wide piece of bark to rest in the stacked wood. Soon her tent sat in the center of the three fires, within the ring of spear poles. There was little she could do about the network of vines and branches above her. If any predators dared drop down from up there she would have to deal with it with her blade. As a second thought she made twelve more spears and set them facing straight up throughout the camp. When the jungle began to noticeably darken, she was ready.

  Aurora speared on of the front legs and laid it across the fire on her bracers. At the watering hole she filled her skin. With the coming of night came the feeling of a hundred eyes watching from the jungle beyond. The birds had stooped singing, and new and less beautiful calls filled the night. The jungle began to stir.

  Aurora added more logs to the fire from the pile she had set near the tent; it was enough to keep the fires lit until morning. She thought of her homeland and her people, the Timber Wolf Tribe. For hundreds of years they had lived on Volnoss, exiled from the mainland after the Barbarian-Dwarf Wars. The barbarians had lived in Northern Eldalon and Shierdon, the capitol of their kingdom once being the Krozock Mountains, known now as Northern Ky'Dren. Relations with the young kingdoms of Eldalon and Shierdon had always been shaky; there had been many wars with the two. Lucky for the two kingdoms the barbarians were not interested in conquest, for every barbarian knew that they could have taken all of Agora. The barbarians were happy with their lot, and the tribes cared not for the land of their neighbors. But the humans were indeed conquerors, and ever they pressed. It was not until the Ky'Dren kingdom had grown fat and expanded over the pass to the north that the barbarians became truly threatened. Humans were weak, one barbarian could take down five, but the dwarves, they were a different foe altogether. Less than half as tall as a barbarian and nearly seven times as strong as the weak humans, the dwarves were like an endless pack of rabid dogs. When a dwarf got something in his head he would see it done, and with Holy Scripture driving their motives none could stand in their way, not even barbarians.

  Attacked from all sides, the barbarians were nearly wiped out. Eldalon wanted what is now
known as "The Horn", the northern most tip of Eldalon that looked like a dragon’s horn when viewed on a map. The peninsula was a prime location for fishing, and a key strategic naval base. Shierdon wanted to expand its lands to the west including Lake Eardon, while the dwarves wanted the entire mountain. History had shown the barbarians to be savages, but like the tribal elders remind the children, "history is written by the victors."

  The barbarians, mostly women and children, were loaded up on barges by the hundreds, ripped from their destroyed mountain homes, and sent to the frozen island of Volnoss. It had been the dead of winter. Half of the survivors made it through to spring, living off of buried roots and what fish could be caught in the frozen lakes with braided hair-line and bone hooks.

  The barbarians of Northern Agora, the once proud and prosperous giants, had been reduced to a ragged community of refugees. It would be generations before they would become strong once again. Aurora reminded herself that now was the time. The barbarians of Volnoss had not been this powerful since the days of Talon Windwalker, and how they could use him and his wolf now. It was up to her she knew; she alone could restore her people to their former glory. But who would she use to accomplish her gains, Whill or Eadon? She had sworn friendship to one, and fealty to the latter. Though she no longer felt the power of Eadon within her, she suspected that her vow remained. She had hoped to have been free of it because she had fulfilled her promise; she had tried to kill Abram. But she now knew those to be nothing more than self-told lies, her way of wishing away the promise. She had thought of asking for the elves help in breaking the vow, Whill's even. But that would mean admitting her sins, and that would likely get her killed.