He narrowed his eyes and glared at her a long moment. “Good.”
“I am not ready to let us rest,” Loren said. “Not yet. If indeed we mean to lose them, we must ride longer. Eat now, and stretch your legs upon the grass. But then we move on, and quicker than before.”
Annis and Gem grumbled, but she ignored them and went to fetch her breakfast from Midnight’s saddle. Then, because the mare had run hard all night, she fetched an apple from the bag as well and fed it to her. But Chet grabbed his hatchet and walked off into the woods. Curious, Loren followed.
She found him a ways off, looking at a young oak’s lower branches. He chose one, firmly gripped it, then began to hack near where it joined the trunk.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
“I hope we have left our pursuers behind. But then again they might find us, and next time it may come to a fight. If it does, I would see us armed. Yet we have no blades, nor would I wish to use one if we did, any more than you. I thought I could make us some staves. Indeed, it would be nice to have a walking stick in any case, for when the ground grows rough.”
Loren smiled. “A wise thought. I am glad to find you so helpful, for I had thought you saw this road as folly.”
“Oh, I do,” he said quickly. The branch came off the oak at last. Chet measured the height and began to cut away at the other end. “I still think we should abandon our course and ride north, or south, or anywhere other than where we mean to go. Only so long as I am trailing in your footsteps, I might as well try to make that road less perilous. Who knows? If indeed they are still following, mayhap we shall find aid in the village. A score of woodsmen could help us fend them off in short order.”
Her spirits dampened, and Loren looked away. “Chet, that is a poor idea.”
“Why?” He shrugged. “They know the Birchwood better than anyone. Do you think they could not drive away a dozen fighters, even these Shades?”
“I do not wish to argue.” She turned away. “Only let us hope we have lost them.”
Leaving Chet to his work, Loren returned to the others. The children sat in the grass eating, while the horses had taken their fill of the stream and so grazed along the ground.
“Where has Chet gone?” said Annis.
“He is fashioning staves for us. In case more trouble finds us.”
“I shall keep my blade, if it is all the same to you,” said Gem. “I am still practicing stances I learned from Jordel, but I could take one of these Shades in a fight.”
“Of that we are all certain.” Xain rolled his eyes. Loren smiled. Though the wizard still looked thin and wasted, it was encouraging to hear him jest.
They enjoyed the morning sunlight until Loren was ready to fetch Chet and ride on. Halfway to standing he returned, carrying five staves of varying sizes. One he threw to Loren, and she easily caught it. The others he dumped on the ground before Gem, Annis, and Xain, save for his, which he held.
“Here you are. Some fine walking sticks if we must dismount—or weapons, if we are forced to fight.”
“I told Loren already, but I prefer my sword.” Gem nudged his staff away with a toe, though Annis had taken hers and was curiously hefting its weight. Xain had scarcely glanced at his.
“But a sword can rarely prevail against a staff,” said Chet. “A blade is a fine weapon for a battle, yes. But if you are not standing in rank and file, you should take the weapon with the longer reach.”
“Fah!” said Gem. “Do you think you could have stood against Mag, if she carried her sword and you a staff?”
“Not Mag. Yet the point stands. I will show you. Take up your blade, and come for me.”
Gem looked doubtful. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
“You shall not. But move slowly, if it comforts you to do so.”
Gem stood and adopted his stance. Loren still remembered the day Jordel had given the boy his blade and shown him the forms, back when they rode through the Greatrocks. He had taken to his training with gusto, but even to Loren’s eye he still seemed very much a novice. She leaned back, hands planted in the grass, watching with amusement.
Gem slowly stepped forward and swung, a wide arc that left Chet a long moment to sidestep. Instead, he lashed out with his staff, so hard it knocked the blade from Gem’s hand. The other end of the staff came around to rest on the boy’s shoulder.
“And you are bested,” said Chet.
Gem greeted his words with a glare. “I was moving slowly.”
“Then try it faster.”
He did. This time, he struck with greater vigor, though Loren could tell he still withheld. Chet struck back faster than before. He did not even aim for the sword; he merely swung the staff at Gem’s head. The boy yelped and leaned back, away from the blow, his own swing turning weak and ineffectual. Chet flipped the staff at the boy’s ankle, and Gem tumbled into the grass. Annis yelped and flung herself backward as his short sword flew through the air and landed on the grass where she had been sitting.
“I am sorry!” Chet dropped his staff and ran to Annis. “Did it strike you?”
“I am fine,” she said, looking down at the sword with distrust.
But Gem had grown angry, and leapt up from the ground to jump Chet from behind. Before Loren could intervene, he had wrapped his arms around the older boy’s neck, legs circling Chet’s waist to restrain him. Chet seized the boy’s spindly arms and lunged in a blink, flipping Gem over his shoulder to land hard upon his back. Breath left him in a whoosh, and he lay there, gasping.
“A fair attempt at an ambush,” said Chet without a note of anger. “Mayhap later I can teach you wrestling to go with your sword training.”
“It would please me greatly if you would fling yourself into the river,” said Gem through wheezing gasps.
“Enough,” said Loren. “Gem, take your staff or not, as you will. But the rest of us should carry ours, for we have no other ways to defend ourselves. Xain, can you carry yours?”
“I am not so feeble as all that,” snapped the wizard, glaring at Loren. But his frail voice betrayed him. Still, he snatched up the staff where it lay at his feet and used it to lever himself to standing. He leaned on the stick, looking for all the world like some wise old courtly sorcerer from tales.
“Now he looks a proper wizard,” said Gem, grinning. Xain’s frown deepened, and he twisted his fingers. A globe of flame sprang to life and crashed into the ground by Gem’s head. He shrieked and rolled away.
twelve
They mounted and rode. The night had left them all weary, but the Birchwood’s beauty in summer did much to raise spirits and sharpen wits.
Fifteen summers Loren had spent beneath these trees, but until recently she had never thought her sixteenth would bring her back. Loren thought she had seen all the forest had to offer, but now she had new eyes. The green leaves, the gentle brown of the branches and trunks, seemed more beautiful to Loren than they ever had when she dwelt there. The birdsong more pleasant, rolling slopes of land gentler and more inviting. Many dark months she had spent elsewhere in the nine lands, in filthy, crowded cities, along the soggy banks of the Dragon’s Tail river, and in the Greatrocks’ unforgiving crags. Now, returned to her childhood home, Loren could see the beauty she had never noticed.
The unexpected feeling grew stronger through the ride and stayed with Loren when she at last let them rest for the night. The next day passed much the same, and Loren found her homesickness growing. Her heart felt heavy as she remembered Chet’s pleading words. Mayhap, once they reached their village, they could stay a while as he wished.
Loren shed the thought. That sort of thinking had kept them in Northwood far too long, and mayhap invited that city’s death. It had almost got them killed—and would have if not for the sacrifice of Mag, Sten, and Albern. She owed it to their memories, as well as Jordel’s, to press on. Once they warned the Mystics and his brethren knew of the coming danger, mayhap then she could return to the Birchwood and live in peace—or visit bef
ore resuming her journey as she had often dreamt of, this time with Chet at her side.
Three days she wrestled with these thoughts as they pressed ever farther east in the wood. Sometimes, they would find rivers or streams, and Loren would guide them through the water for miles in case anyone were still on their trail. But at last, that wary practice seemed less important, and they would simply cross. Soon, the land sloped down again, and when the trees thinned they could see a wide bend in the Melnar many leagues ahead.
“That loop is only a few days’ journey west of the village.” Loren could hear the eagerness in Chet’s voice. And now, she found herself feeling the same.
They spurred their horses on, even the children catching the mood. Soon, they found a narrow road, little more than a dirt path worn by hooves and boots. Loren thought she recognized it as the one that ran to their village. At midday, they again stopped to eat. Loren wanted to keep riding until she saw familiar homes in the distance, but that was a foolish thought. Even on the road, it would take them days yet to reach the village.
As they sat in the underbrush beside the path, Loren felt a prickling on the back of her neck. She faltered as she ate, looking about and wondering at the feeling. Then she noticed that Chet had stopped eating as well and was staring off into the shadows under the trees.
“What is it?” said Loren, quietly.
He raised a hand to shush her. Then, in a moment, she heard it: silence. Birds and beasts had fallen quiet. The only noise was the wind and creaking trees. Gem and Annis watched with wide eyes; Gem looked as if he might burst but still managed to keep his mouth shut. Xain watched Loren, his eyes squinted.
“On the horses,” Loren whispered.
They mounted in silent speed. She had no wish to follow the road, so she led them north into the trees. She scanned all around for another river or stream and cursed herself for losing her caution. Mayhap, if they had kept hiding their trail, they would be home free. But then again, mayhap the Shades had been tailing them longer than they realized and were only now taking the chance to strike.
They found a stream and began to ride south along it. After a time, it passed under the road, where a slender wooden bridge had been built to cross it. They did not slow but rode under the bridge, ducking to pass beneath its bottom rafters. But still the forest stayed silent, and the river’s babble grated against the quiet.
She was painfully aware of their horses’ thunder. Her pulse was so loud that Loren felt certain the Shades could hear it. Frustration grew. The water was slowing their steps, and if they were being followed closely, it would do little to deter their pursuers. She nudged Midnight up beside Chet’s horse and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“We should leave the river and make for the road again. I think speed will save us, more surely than silence.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “We passed the bridge some time ago. That would mean turning around, mayhap into waiting arms.”
“Then let us cut east, and turn north if we feel it is safe.”
He shrugged and pulled on the reins. Together, they headed off between the trees again. Still all was quiet, and maddening at once. Loren was half-ready to turn them around and scream into the woods, demanding that the Shades show themselves. But suddenly they struck.
Arrows whistled out from the trees, striking trunks and ground about them. Annis screamed, and her horse reared with a whinny. Gem clung to her and barely stayed atop the beast.
“Ride north, and quickly!” said Loren.
They kicked their horses and galloped. Loren whispered thanks for Midnight’s sure steps and quick reflexes but watched the children’s mount with worry. Annis was sure in the saddle, but her horse was easily frightened. Often it tried to break from the others, and Annis had to wrestle it back into line.
In the end, Chet’s steed nearly doomed them. Another arrow came flying, this time from their left and passed the beast’s nose by a few inches. It screamed and lurched left. Chet pitched from the saddle at the sudden change in direction and landed hard on the forest floor. For a heart-stopping moment, Loren feared he might be hurt. But he scrambled to his feet, lifting his staff. His bow lay in the dirt a few feet away, string snapped where he had landed upon it.
“Chet!” Loren went to him.
Mounted figures in blue and grey appeared beneath the trees.
Another volley they loosed, but all arrows went wide. Then they leapt from their saddles and charged with swords held high.
Loren flung herself from Midnight’s saddle midstride and landed catlike beside Chet. From her back she pulled her bow, and from her hip quiver an arrow. With shaking hands, she fitted and drew it as Albern had taught her, but still nerves would not let her aim for the heart. The shaft went wide.
Then the Shades were on them with swords, and Loren snatched her staff where she had dropped it. Together, she and Chet managed to ward their blows, backing up a step at a time between the trees. They used the trunks to their advantage, ducking behind them and letting the Shades’ swords bounce harmlessly from the wood. One of their blades became trapped by the bark. Chet lunged forward and slammed his staff’s butt into the man’s head and sent him to the ground in a heap.
A high, thin scream ripped the air, and Gem ran into the fray with his sword held high. Annis came behind him, blanching with fright but still firmly holding her staff. Gem’s wild swings proved little danger, but at least distracted one of the Shades long enough for Loren to take him unawares. She struck him first in the gut, and then on the back of the head with a sharp overhead swing.
His companion pressed forward, and Loren had to fall back before her. The woman knew her way about a blade. Loren kept her at bay, but could not knock the sword from her grasp. And whenever Loren lunged to strike, the blade would be there to block it. Gem came running, but the Shade barred his first stroke with her blade, then delivered a powerful backhand blow that sent him crashing into the trunk of a tree.
“Gem!” said Loren, hands loosening on the staff. With a cry the Shade kicked out, knocking the staff from Loren’s grip before she swung her sword hard. It barely missed Loren, and she danced back out of reach. The Shade swung again, and this time released the sword, which flew spinning toward Loren’s face.
She fell on instinct and heard the blade whistle overhead. By the time she rose to her knees, the Shade was on top of her. Loren was borne to the ground, one arm across her throat, and the Shade whipped a knife from the back of her belt. Loren only just caught the wrist in time, choking for breath as she fought to shove the knife from her body.
Annis screamed and swung, but in her panic struck the Shade in her back, not the head. The woman grunted and loosened pressure on Loren’s throat. Then the air rang out with a sharp crack, and a bolt of lightning struck her in the chest. Loren felt it course through her body, rocking her with a sharp and sudden pain. The Shade lurched back with a cry and fell to the ground with her arms clutched around herself.
Gasping, Loren flipped up and on top of her, one hand gripping the woman’s throat just as hers had been.
She screamed, “Killing children in the woods? Is that the manner of person you are?”
The dagger was in her hand before Loren knew what she was doing. She raised it high. Only at the final second did she stop herself. The woman’s eyes had rolled nearly all the way back, and her hands feebly tried to pull Loren’s fingers from her throat. She could see where her nails had dug into the skin, which had turned an angry red under her grip.
She cried out again and turned the dagger, bringing the pommel crashing down upon the woman’s head. The Shade’s skull rocked back against the ground, and she lay still.
Loren’s fingers loosened from her neck.
She looked up and found Chet staring. He had already bested his foe, who lay slumped against one of the trees. His expression nearly made her weep, more so because it held neither anger, shock, nor fear. It was sorrow, the same she had seen in his eyes when he sat beside
her in Northwood and held her as she trembled and cried, murmuring that it was not her fault.
Quickly, she turned. “Annis, fetch rope from my saddle. Quickly!”
She started to drag fallen Shades to the base of a beech tree. After a moment’s hesitation, Chet moved to help her. Soon, Annis came running with the rope and then ran to revive Gem with a splash of water from her water skin. Loren bound the Shades’ wrists behind their backs before tying the binds to each other in a circle around the tree. When they woke, they would be able to rise if they all stood together, but they could not move away.
“It will not hold them forever, but long enough for us to make our escape,” she said. “Now get the horses, and quickly. With luck, they will not have run far.”
Chet’s mount had fled after throwing him, but they soon found it a bit northwest. The other horses were nearby. Loren saw Chet studying her from the corner of his eye. He flinched when she turned toward him.
“We cannot return to our village,” said Loren. “If they followed us this far, it is folly to believe they will not stay on our trail. Heading east will only bring their wrath upon our home.”
Chet said nothing. Xain watched him for a moment before looking to Loren. “Then where do we ride?”
“North. To Dorsea. Then east to the coast.” She spoke again to Chet. “But that does not have to be your course. You could go on alone, for you can hide your tracks better than the five of us. They would not follow you, and you could return home in peace. No one will speak ill of your doing so. Indeed, I would call you wise.”
Still, Chet said nothing, and now the others noted his silence. Gem watched him, mute, an angry bruise growing on his cheekbone.
“That is a fine dagger you have,” Chet said at last. He kicked his horse and rode north, soon out of sight among the trees.
“Do not get used to seeing it,” Gem called after him.
After a long and doubtful look, Annis spurred on behind him. Xain still sat, waiting and watching Loren.
“Turn your eyes, wizard,” she said. “They should be on the road ahead.”
Shadeborn: A Book of Underrealm Page 7
