by Rutger Krenn
“They’re hammering a new beat on those dammed drums,” said Cadrafer.
“Aye,” agreed Kenrik. “It’s no longer the battle call but something else. It’s slower and darker, and it makes my skin crawl.”
“So it should,” said Arandur. “Cadrafer is right. They have changed the beat, and they have changed their purpose. Now, instead of a battle beat it is a summoning. A summoning of power and sorcery to overturn the ill omen that has been shown them.”
“What can they summon?” asked Kenrik.
“There is only one which will answer their call,” said the Wizard darkly.
“You cannot mean Eruthram?” said Mecklem, his face draining of blood. His words, cold and heavy, hung in the air like the icy breath of the north wind.
“No, not him. Not yet, and not here. They summon his servant. And though he is but a servant, his power is terrible. They are summoning the Turgil, imploring if you will, that he unleash his power.”
“And will the Turgil respond?” asked Kenrik.
“Yes, O Duke, he will respond. His plans have been stymied. He is aware now that we are stalling for time. His wrath grows by the moment. He will respond, and when he does it will mean death. Death for us all if I cannot challenge his power and turn aside his evil.”
Kenrik could think of no reply to this.
“Something comes now which will be beyond you,” Arandur continued. “It will be of magic. Men must fight Goblins and Wizardry must stand against sorcery. It is for this that I have come.” The Wizard’s words were ominous.
“Leave me now,” he said. “I must have time to prepare and a place, away from men, in which to stay and observe. I will use the top of the gate tower. Let no man disturb me, for there will be forces at play that are perilous to all others.”
Kenrik gave a command and men who were stationed in the tower came down to stand on the battlements.
Arandur ascended the small flight of stairs. Gaining the top of the tower he looked out over the crenellations. He griped them with one hand and surveyed the enemy host, and beyond it the hill where the shadow lay.
He closed his eyes and freed his soul to soar away from the body. Away from tiredness and hunger and thirst. Away from the feel of the sun on his face and the breeze against his skin. But not away from dread.
He looked down from above with spirit eyes and saw the Turgil on the hill. All about him was shadow, and yet in Arandur’s new form he saw what the eyes of flesh did not. And he knew fear.
The Turgil stood on the hill and looked toward him. His eyes were cold as ice, dark pits of unfathomable malice. Arandur felt hatred burn him like an unholy fire, but firmed his resolve and he composed himself.
“What dost thou here,” the voice of the Turgil echoed in the vaults of his mind. “Why seekest thou to thwart me? Have ye yet grown weary of life and desire the ceaseless slumber of death? Shall I give it to thee?”
“Here ye, O Dark One,” answered Arandur in the formal language of an age long since gone; an age that he and the Turgil had lived through, and which remained their natural speech. “I know you. I defy thy master, and I thwart the fulfilment of his plans. Shouldst thou come against us thy Goblins will perish, and it is thee who shall find the slumber of death. Yet for thee it shall not be restful, but a torture to be endured. Already I sense the wrath of thy master at his thrall’s failure. Here me well, O Dark One. Turn aside now. Leave behind the chains which bind you, for even as they bind in the flesh they bind in the spirit also.”
The Turgil laughed and Arandur’s mind shuddered at the sound. There was no hope for redemption there. It was a sound like gravel sliding against gravel, like the coughing of poisonous gas from some vent far beneath the earth, like the churning of waters where currents meet and drown all that flows along their path.
“Thy time has passed,” said the Turgil. “Thy hour has come. This fortress, and those whom it guards will fall. It shall please the Master, and I shall find reward. So it is among our order, and so it shall be until the end of days. Prepare for my wrath!”
Arandur felt a surge of power and cold more bitter than a gale sweeping through ice-clad ridges in the northern mountains. It was the chilling of his soul, for well he knew that in the spirit world there was neither heat nor cold.
Arandur returned to his body and the explosion of light and warmth around him was shocking. He slowed his breathing and knew that his time of trial would come soon now, and with it, if he should survive and prevent the Turgil from whatever he planned, would come a little more of the time that Talon and Arell required.
He wondered now how they fared. So much depended on them, not just for Aren Daleth, but for all Andoras.
He turned aside from such thoughts and prepared himself for the confrontation that was imminent. All their efforts would be useless, all the hopes of the free peoples of Andoras in vain, if the power of the Turgil could not be turned aside a little while longer.
Chapter 14
Arell watched Talon study their back trail. Though it was dusk on the plains the late sun caused the ice-capped peaks of Aren Daleth to glow yellow. Much lower, and only a few miles distant, they could see a grove of trees dominated by spreading oaks. It was there that his attention was focused.
He placed a hand on her shoulder without taking his eyes away and she leaned in close.
“What is it,” she said, low and soft near his ear.
“Do you see those birds?”
She glanced to where he pointed above the trees and saw a flock of doves circling erratically.
“I do,” she replied.
“Judging by the manner of their flight they’ve been disturbed from their roosting place. Doves don’t fly at night, nor even in the late afternoon, which means they must have been scared. It wasn’t by a bird of prey otherwise they’d fly high and escape danger, or fast and low into the cover of thick bushes. They’ve been scared by a man - or men.”
Arell knew what that meant. Within those trees were the Chung and they were coming for Talon; hunting him relentlessly. Him, and now no doubt, her as well.
“I see,” she said almost inaudibly and he turned to her as he felt her warm breath against his cheek.
“We’re in trouble,” he said. “I’ll have to do something, something unexpected, if we’re to escape them.”
Arell watched intently and waited for him to speak again. They were in trouble but she had no idea how they could get out of it. She knew her skills were far better than he’d given her credit for and his own were remarkable, but if they were to survive they would need something more. They were outnumbered and their pursuers were fanatical. For the first time since leaving Thromdar she felt a surge of panic.
Had she done the right thing? Was she foolish to have followed him? Talon had thought so. At least he had at first but since then she had detected growing respect. She did have the skills. Her father had taught her well and as he’d taken pleasure in giving her instruction, one of the few things she had seen him take enjoyment from since her mother died, she had trained hard to please him. At least that’s how it began. After a while she had enjoyed the sword and knife lessons in their own right. She grew to love the riding and hunting skills and the use of the bow. She was more help than hindrance to Talon and it was about time he said so! She shied away from her other motivation. Had she remained in Thromdar she would have been safer, for a time. Yet when the walls were overrun, as she had seen they would be, what then? What the Goblins would do when they broke through didn’t bear thinking about. She would rather take her fate in her own hands and throw her lot in with Talon and help him prevent the castle’s fall. That was a better way even if her father and Talon didn’t recognize it.
When he spoke again she crushed her panic with steely resolve; a resolve built on faith in their ability and the knowledge that they would find a way to succeed, because they must.
Talon looked at her. “It can only be the Chung following us. It’s too dark to see anything now but
I would bet everything I own that there are five Chung warriors cantering in our direction.”
It wasn’t much of a bet she thought ruefully. He didn’t seem to own anything except what he wore and the sorrel. It wasn’t much, but some men had started with less and founded kingdoms. It was absurd, of course, to think of him that way, and yet she had sensed over the last few days that he had reached a stage where he was ready to settle down and build a life for himself. A man such as he could achieve much. But what was it to her? He obviously didn’t find her attractive. She had tried a whole range of things to test that out and he had ignored her on every occasion. It was infuriating! The only thing that got a reaction from him was when she took a superior tone. And if he knew she only did that for the deliberate purpose of trying to unsettle him, trying to make him show what he really thought or really felt, he would no doubt ignore that to.
“They must be using their horses hard,” he said. “They couldn’t have found our trail straight away and we’ve been travelling fast. Yet they’re still catching up quickly. We might be able to turn that to our advantage though.”
He spoke thoughtfully, as though he were arriving at a decision even as he was talking. “I think I know a few ways to slow them down,” he said, mounting the sorrel and flashing her a smile.
Arell mounted also and nodded to indicate she was ready. He swung away from the edge of the copse and headed deeper and Arell followed. He didn’t go far, for it was not a large copse, and it didn’t take long before they came to its center.
“Quickly now,” he said as he dismounted and looped the reigns around a low branch. “Gather as much small timber as you can; the sort you would use to make a camp fire.”
Arell dismounted and joined him in the search for wood. What did he want if for? Surely a fire would be the last thing they needed now. It would only serve to pinpoint their location to their pursuers. Nevertheless, she followed his instructions.
They were in a small clearing with a game trail leading out in a westward direction. In the center of the glade was the aged trunk of a tree that had fallen or been blown down in a storm many years ago. It was broken off about three feet in the air but the end of the trunk still sat perched atop the rotting stump and ran at an angle down to the ground where once its highest branches had now been crushed into the earth.
It was toward this end that Talon wanted the firewood. Soon there was a good deal of material there and Talon found some dried grass with which to start a fire. He worked with speed and efficiency, as he always did, and yet Arell noticed he now showed a rare sign of anxiousness.
“Come on!” he muttered as he knelt by the timber, as though by strength of will alone he could cause the sparks from his flint to catch in the grass.
He had to try several more times before there was a puff of blue smoke. The grass blazed up for a few seconds and then died quickly. Small slivers of timber had caught alight and now burned with a slow and steady flame. Soon the fire would catch on the larger pieces.
Talon strode to his horse. “The trunk will catch soon enough and when it does it’ll burn for a long time. Let’s go!”
They went through to the end of the clearing and Talon made sure that his horse walked in the center of the trail. “Be sure you leave tracks in the dirt,” he said as Arell followed. “I’d like to see the expressions on their face when they work out what I’ve done.”
“What exactly is it that you have done,” she asked with a hint of impatience in her voice. “As far as I can see we’ve only left markers to show exactly where we’ve been and where we’re going.”
Talon dug his heels into his mounts flanks and started down the path. “Let’s get moving and I’ll explain as we go.”
Arell followed closely but as she rode she looked behind her toward the clearing. It was fast disappearing from sight but the flickering of the fire was growing brighter as the night darkened and it would be seen from quite some distance away.
“They’ve already got a pretty good idea of where we are,” said Talon, twisting around in his saddle, “so the fire won’t give too much away.” He smiled, quick and fierce in the shadowy darkness of the trees.
“It will lead them to the clearing though, but they’ll proceed very cautiously. They might send forward a single scout to reconnoiter the situation, or more likely they’ll all try and surround the glade in preparation for an attack. Either way they’ll be slowed down because they’ll be careful approaching what they’ll take as our camp. Meanwhile, we’ll be travelling swiftly just as soon as we leave this wood and increase our lead.”
“I see,” said Arell. “That’s very clever. But won’t they be suspicious of a trick? After all, you’ve been very careful with your fires all along. Why would you suddenly go and light a big blaze for all the world to see?”
“That’s true,” agreed Talon, ducking his head under a low hanging branch. “They’ll probably be suspicious of some kind of trick but that’ll only make them more careful of an ambush. They’ll move slower still.”
Talon paused and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “Make your enemy often fear an attack. When they feel secure, that is the time to strike! That was one of Chow’s sayings, and it’s a good one.”
Arell thought about this while they plodded on through the thick timber. The words echoed in her mind and suddenly she felt a cold sensation welling upward from the pit of her stomach. She was beginning to understand Talon now. She had an insight into his ways and suddenly realized that he had unconsciously hinted at what his next move would be. This time, the Chung would be wary of an attack near the fire, but it wouldn’t eventuate. Next time there would be no fire. There would be nothing out of the ordinary. That was when Talon would strike. She repressed a shudder at the danger he would be risking to do so. Yet she knew as well as he that they had to do something otherwise they would be caught, and the Chung outnumbering them, would have all the advantages. She made up her mind there and then that she wouldn’t oppose him when he voiced such a plan but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She was still lost in thought some minutes later when she noticed starlight flickering through the canopy above. The trees marched on beside her and the game trail continued but now the leafy roof was opening up and clear sky showed in ever larger patches.
Talon signaled a halt and briefly observed the lay of the land. They were now at the edge of the wood and the plainlands opened about them again. Behind lay their enemies and the trees, dark and impenetrable. Ahead were many miles of green grass and what they sought; the king, Aren Daleth’s army and the final hope for Thromdar.
There was nothing to be seen at first glance. Talon studied the situation but time was one thing she knew he didn’t have much of and he soon acted.
“Stay just where you are, please,” he asked and dismounted. “I have a further surprise for them.”
Arell watched curiously as he went to his saddlebags and retrieved a small bundle. She couldn’t see it clearly because it appeared to be black and it blended in well with the night. He went over to a tree and she saw him unfold it. It was some kind of cord, and now she could see its length as he reached up and wound it around a tree trunk, tying it securely. Then he walked behind her and her horse, measuring its height as he went so that it was level with her neck. He then quickly tied it to a tree on the other side.
“It’s made out of leather,” he said when he’d finished and was walking back to his horse. “Thin, black leather studded with slivers of sharp metal. I had Cadrafer get someone to make it for me while I slept at Thromdar. It’s crude, because it was made in a hurry, and they may see it, but then again they may not. We need all the help we can get.”
There was something in the tone of voice that Arell picked up at once. He was not happy about using such a trick. He did it out of necessity but he didn’t like to do so.
They both looked at the cord; a thin shadow through the night, one of many other shadows and natural in appearance because he�
�d hung it with a curve and not in a straight line. Straight lines stood out in nature, she knew, and whatever Talon’s reluctance to employ such traps he clearly understood much about their usage.
They moved on and in moments the empty grassland was all about them. It remained silent, almost expectant, as they cantered onwards and left the fire, the woods, and the trap behind them. Their enemies might be slowed down, but they would not be left behind. They would pursue the hunt relentlessly.
Arell began to wonder about her companion. Who was he? He called himself Talon but that wasn’t his real name, or at least not the one he was born with. Why did it matter to him that no one knew his background in Aren Daleth? She clearly sensed that it was vital to him that his past lay undisturbed and forgotten. And who was his mother that she had been awarded the Eagle of the North pendant from the king? There were so many questions. Why had Chow taught him so much when it was against the laws of the Chung to do so? He had learned more about the arts of fighting and scouting than anyone she knew. She didn’t think even her father knew as much. But whatever he knew about killing it was knowledge that he didn’t like to employ. He was a puzzle to her, but she liked that. Most of all: did he like her or hate her? No matter, she smiled to herself, she would win him over in the end.
Wu Chin was in the lead and smelled the smoke first. With great care he proceeded forward until the flickering light became visible. They were just now entering the copse and the trees were beginning to block out the little light coming from the nighttime sky. He stopped, still as a statue, as did those behind. He knew instinctively that something was wrong. It wasn’t like Talon to build such a careless fire. He’d pursued him for a long time and knew his ways and habits. There was a great deal that could be learned about a person by following his trail. Many times this was from what they didn’t do, rather than the things they did.
On the other hand, he thought, there was a girl with him now. Had she lit the fire? Was Talon perhaps sleeping? It was possible. It could also be a trap. The fire could lure them into an area advantageous for an ambush. Anything was possible. However, there was only one way to find out the truth of matters.
