The Arena of Lost Souls

by Martin Swinford

  "Oh ye..." The boy's reply was cut off as something sharp dug into his side. He looked gingerly down to where Bridie pressed the point of a bronze spearhead just below his ribs.

  "Sure?" The coy smile disappeared as Bridie ran her tongue hungrily over her teeth.

  "Er, ah, actually..., " Easoch stuttered.

  "Thought so!" Bridie smiled sweetly as she turned away to lead her horse past the gaping boys and up the path. Behind her the shocked silence was broken by the rare sound of the Ghost laughing.

  As soon as they crested the pass the feeling returned. To Luan it seemed that the horses could sense it as well, they had to be coaxed down the path and some shied away as they were led past the standing stone. In front of him Druca's head suddenly whipped round.

  "What is it?" Luan called.

  "I don't know." Druca shook his head. "I thought I saw something in the ruin, some sort of an animal."

  "A black dog?" Luan tried to sound uninterested. Druca turned thoughtfully.

  "Did you see it too?" he asked. At that moment something flashed across the path, startling Druca's mount which reared with a sound half neigh and half scream. Eyes wide, wheeling, hooves lashing, it broke free, leaving the boy sprawled in the dirt. As it bolted through the patrol the other horses seemed to catch the madness and suddenly the path was full of rearing horses, the boys cursing as they struggled to keep control. First one, then two, then seemingly all the horses were away, stampeding back up the path and over the pass. Some of the boys ran after, while others sat or knelt, nursing injuries dealt by flailing hooves.

  Luan surveyed the chaotic scene, acutely aware how vulnerable the patrol was at that moment. Seconds ticked by as he waited for Cail to take charge but he seemed wholly consumed with calming his horse. Automatically Luan looked to Mack but the old man was helping Bridie tame the only other remaining horse as it bucked and reared.

  "To arms!" He heard himself roar the words. "Patrol to arms!" It worked. The boys were up and drawing their swords as their training kicked in.

  "Brenn, get those two back here, fast."

  Brenn nodded and was off, haring up the path to where Accio and Callum were just cresting the pass.

  "Fin, help Mack. The rest of you, defensive formation and keep a look out!"

  A moment's hurried movement and then all was still. The boys stood in a loose oval, facing outwards with swords drawn. Inside the ring, Fin and Mack had Bridie's horse under control. Luan allowed himself a smile of satisfaction.

  "Very good." Cail was smiling as well, but to Luan his tone did not match the words.

  "Luan!" Brenn was running back down the path, Accio and Callum following. Something was wrong.

  "What is it?" Cail's voice rang with authority. Brenn skidded to a stop in front of Luan, but then turned to the officer.

  "Tribesmen," he reported breathlessly.

  "Silence." Cail's shout quelled the murmurs as boys turned to look. "Keep your mind on your duty!" He turned back to Brenn. "How many and how close?"

  "They were some way back, down in the valley, I would say at least a couple of hours march. As to how many..." Brenn paused for thought. "Maybe about forty?" Accio and Callum nodded in support.

  "And now the most important question," Cail continued. "Did they see you?" There was a guilty pause before Brenn finally answered.

  "I think they must have done, what with the horses stampeding over the pass and then us chasing after them."

  "It was our fault," Accio piped up.

  "Doesn't matter now!" Cail replied. "We're just going to have to deal with it." He turned from the three boys and raised his voice.

  "Form up! We've got some serious marching to do." He pulled himself onto his horse. "Mack, keep them moving. I'm off to scout ahead." With a kick of his heals he set off down the track.

  "You heard him." Mack positioned himself at the front of the patrol. "Let's go."

  It was hard work trying to keep up a good pace. Although downhill, the path was loose and treacherous, and at times it was so steep it was almost impossible to keep your footing. They slipped and skidded down as best they could, with many a look over their shoulder. At first Bridie stubbornly led their last remaining pony, but when they were less than a third of the way down Mack told her to let it go.

  "The beast will be safer making his own way down," he explained. "He can meet us at the bottom if he wants to."

  Bridie's reply was a sullen stare, but she did as he asked.

  They had made it past the worst of the slope when they saw Cail emerge from the trees ahead. He galloped towards them shouting for them to hurry and pointing back up the pass. They looked up to see that the first of the tribesmen had made it to the top.

  "Into the woods! Quickly!" Cail shouted as he wheeled his horse before leading the way, mud flying from the galloping hooves. It was too far to run, but the patrol managed to settle into a pace that was just slightly more than a fast march. They needed no encouragement, each was acutely aware of the watching eyes on the hills above.

  "I feel like a mouse trying to run from a hawk!" remarked Brenn. No one had breath to reply but they knew what he meant.

  There was a collective sigh of relief when they reached the cover of the trees. Cail, waiting just inside, indicated that they could rest for a moment. For a good thirty seconds he scanned the horizon before turning to the patrol.

  "They haven't started down yet. There's three at the top of the pass, probably their scouts." He swung himself down from his horse. Here's how I see it," he said. "They outnumber us by at least two to one if not more, and while I'm sure we would put up a good fight," here he paused to grin at the boys, "in the end they would take us and I'm not in the mood for dying today! So, we need to escape, but if we stick to the main path they will catch us eventually. It's their territory and they can move faster than us."

  "Can we make peace with them?" It was Mack who asked.

  "It's possible," Cail conceded, "but I don't think it likely. If it comes to it we may have to try but I think it is the last resort before a fight. Now gather round." He drew his sword and began to draw in the dirt of the path. "Here are the two ridges that run either side of us. They meet here at the pass and then widen before running parallel towards the east. This path runs down the length of the valley, much of the way alongside a large lake." The patrol watched keenly as he continued to draw. "Now, on our map there is a small path that leads around the head of the lake and up to the ridge on the far side. I've had a look and there is something on the ridge above the tree line. I think it's some standing stones or an old castle, but I can't be sure. Either way, there'll be a path up there and a way out of the valley"

  "Won't they just follow us?" Druca asked.

  "There's a good chance they won't," Cail replied. "I think I've found the start of the path and it's very hard to pick out. The tribesmen tend to avoid the old places, they believe they're full of ghosts. I doubt if they use it. Also I will send the horse..." At this point he was interrupted by a delighted squeal from Bridie, as her pony trotted into the wood looking slightly guilty with a mouthful of grass.

  "...correction, horses..." Cail continued, ignoring the cooing sounds as Bridie petted her pony. "...away down the main path. We can't take them up the ridge anyway and the tribesmen will follow the hoof prints."

  "But we'll lose the horses!" Bridie clung stubbornly to her pony's mane.

  "Perhaps not." Cail reached up and grasped his horse’s bridle. "This old sod and me have been through a lot. He tends to catch up with me eventually and your pony will stick with him if it's got any sense. Any questions?" He looked around at the patrol. "Right then, let's get moving."

  At first it seemed that the plan was working. They followed what was barely more than a rabbit track through the marshy ground at the head of the lake, jumping between tussocks of grass and splashing through streams. To their left the great sheet of water reflecting the expanse of sky. Soon the ground became firmer and the trees started to c
lose in as they headed uphill. The path became steeper as it twisted and turned between the trees, often just a gravelly channel cut by the rain. Ash and silver birch clung to the hillside, the fungus clad trunks stretching up from thickets of fern and bramble. At one point the land had slipped leaving an ugly scar. As Luan cautiously made his way across, he glanced back and realised he had a clear view all the way to the head of the lake. His heart jumped in his chest.

  "Look!" His outstretched arm picked out the line of tribesmen, following the trail left by the patrol. Cail looked back and grimaced.

  "Time to get moving!" he called out.

  They picked up the pace, slogging up the trail as the forest darkened and thickened around them, silver birch replaced by pine. There was little noise and no talking, just a sense of quiet desperation. Their world condensed to the few feet in front of them as they willed burning legs onward and upward. Weighed down by swords and packs, mouths dry, gasping for breath, they kept going, driven on by fear. Drustan led the way, his physical prowess coming into its own. Suddenly he stopped, right hand whipping up to signal to the others. Silence, then a noise coming from the trail above them. It came again, the unmistakeable sound of voices. Drustan turned and hissed.

  "Tribesmen!"

  Cail's hand automatically grasped his sword but then he hesitated.

  "Do we fight?" asked Fin.

  "No." Cail shook his head. "We would be trapped between two enemies. We wouldn't stand a chance."

  "So what do we do?" Mack looked bone weary, leaning on his staff for support.

  "We get off the path," Cail decided. "Split up, go through the trees, make for the standing stones." A shout came from up ahead.

  "They've seen us!" Drustan shouted.

  "Go!" roared Cail and without waiting he plunged into the trees.

  Three – The Forest

  Hand tests blade or bowstring plucks

  THE BOYS SCATTERED into the forest, each seeking their own path through the densely packed pines. Luan crouched as he ran, an arm curled protectively over his face, feet sinking into the deep bed of pine needles. Cries and shouts behind spurred him on as the low branches whipped at him, pulling his hair and snagging his clothes. Around him he could hear the crash and crack as his friends threw themselves between the trees, muffled curses marking the sharp moments of pain. It was a dark and eerie world, the occasional splashes of light only heightening the gloom. Over to his right Luan heard a high pitched cry. “Was that Bridie?” he thought, as worry for his friends wrestled with his own fear. Up ahead he heard a low curse as a branch snapped and he slowed, wary of who was in front.

  "Luan?" Cail's voice called from in front of him. Luan pushed through a last thicket of trees and staggered into a small open clearing. To one side the splayed roots of a pine reached from a hole in the ground like grasping fingers, the fungi coated trunk caught in the branches of another tree about four feet above the ground.

  "Here boy." Cail beckoned Luan to him, all the while staring into the darkness in the other side of the clearing.

  "What is it," Luan asked softly as he reached the man's side.

  "Something moved." Cail reached out and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Something in the touch made Luan want to pull away, but then he saw a movement in the shadows of the trees. The familiar dizziness hit him like the warm breath of a fire. Pulse racing and fingers tingling, he felt the fear rise as the black dog stepped out of the gloom beneath the branches.

  "Do you see it?" Cail’s question caught Luan by surprise. In front of him the dog opened its mouth, the tongue lolling over sharp white teeth. The eyes, fixed on Luan, shone like blood. A menacing growl raised the hairs on his neck.

  "Do you see it?" Cail's question was insistent.

  "Yes!" whispered Luan. "The black dog." He reached up and started to draw his sword.

  The blow took him completely by surprise. Cail's back hand spun Luan around and sent him sprawling on the floor, his sword tumbling from his hand.

  "Finally!" Cail drew his sword and stepped forward to press it to the boy's chest. "You've been hard to sniff out, your highness, but now I have you!"

  "You!" Luan shook his head.

  "Yes," Cail sneered. "Me. Solid, trustworthy Cail. Always there to look after the novices, watching out for you, keeping you safe, and all the time planning your death. The only thing that slowed me down was that I wasn't sure. There were several boys that fitted your description, and so I had several 'accidents' to arrange." Cail's face twisted as he spoke and Luan thought he saw something in the man's eyes that belied his gloating tone.

  "How can you do this?" Luan, dry mouthed, stumbled over the words. "How can you betray everything you have lived for?"

  "Betray?" Cail stared, his eyes wild. "You know nothing boy! I was betrayed the day my father robbed me of my birthright and sent me off alone into the world. Betrayed when I was sent into battle against suicidal odds, betrayed when my friends suffered and died around me. These lies they sell to us, truth and honour and serving the Kingdom. It is all betrayal."

  "What happened to you?" Luan tried to sit up, but Cail's sword pushed him back to the dirt.

  "What happened?" Cail's grin was savage. "I grew up boy. I saw the world the way it really is. A worthless place, where only greed has power and good men die in the service of those who don't deserve their sacrifice. You're young, but you'll see. If you'd lived as long as I have, you'd feel the same way, you'd be just like me."

  "Never!" Luan looked straight into Cail's eyes. "I will never be like you!"

  "Then you're better dead!" Cail shouted the words as he drew his arm back, ready to thrust. Luan felt his world shrink to the shining sword point before him.

  "No!" Stav burst into the clearing, skidding in a cloud of pine needles.

  "Stay out of this," Cail warned.

  "What are you doing?" Stav's eyes widened as he took in the scene.

  "He's a traitor!" Cail shouted without taking his eyes off Luan. "He betrayed us to the Eagle Clan."

  Stav took a step closer. "What?"

  "He's lying." Luan wrenched his attention from the sword in front of him to look at his friend. "He's working for the enemy."

  "Shut it!" Cail flicked his sword out so that the point caught Luan under the chin, pushing his jaw up and stifling his cry of pain. Luan felt blood run from the cut. His pulse pounded in his ears.

  "No!" Stav took another step forward, his arm reaching out towards Cail. "You can't just kill him." Just for a moment the big man's attention flickered away. Luan glanced to his left where his sword lay just out of reach.

  "Just walk away boy!" Cail commanded. For a second Stav hesitated, cowed by the man's authority. He even took half a step back.

  "Stav!"

  The sound of his friend's voice stiffened Stav's resolve.

  "No!" he said firmly. "I don't believe that Luan is a traitor." He put his hand on his sword hilt. "Which means you must be!"

  It was the rasp of iron drawn that gave Luan his chance. As Cail looked up Luan rolled to his left, desperately grasping for his sword. Cail drove his sword down a fraction too late, cursing as the point bit into the earth. Even as his right hand curled round the hilt, Luan knew it was too late, the second blow was already aimed at his unprotected back.

  "Yaaaaah!" Stav yelled as he slammed into Cail. Man and boy hit the floor in a tangle of limbs. Luan rolled again and sprang to his feet in time to see Cail fling Stav away and scramble to his feet. He leapt to attack and Stav, still on his knees, just managed to raise his sword in parry.

  "Cail!" Luan shouted as he stepped forward, trying to prise the man's attention from his beleaguered friend. Cail ignored him, too experienced a warrior not to take the chance to put his foe down. His boot lashed out, thumping into Stav's chest and hurling him to the floor as the sword swung down, biting into Stav's unprotected side.

  "NO!" Luan threw himself forward as the boy's piercing scream rang through the trees. Cail spun round to parry then str
uck himself, their blades clashing as Luan caught the riposte just a foot from his face, saw Stav's blood crimson on the blade, felt drops spatter his cheek. Fury boiled within him as he launched a series of wild blows. This was not the icy cold precision of his earlier fights. This was a savage desire for revenge. Shouting, no, screaming insults, he hacked at Cail again and again, driving the older man back. For a moment Luan exulted, believing himself to be on the point of victory, but then he caught Cail's eyes, saw the mockery there as he parried easily, waiting for Luan to tire himself out. And he was tired: the long march up the slope, the flight through the trees and now combat were taking their toll. His anger slipped away, to be replaced by fear. Luan stepped back, his sword heavy in his hand. Only the sound of his ragged breathing disturbed the stillness in the clearing. Cail raised his sword and grinned like a wolf.

  "Luan!" Fin's voice broke the silence. Bodies were crashing through the trees only moments away. Cail frowned and shook his head.

  "A lucky escape," he sneered. "But your blood will coat my blade soon enough!" Raising his sword in mock salute he turned and slipped into the trees.

  FIN, BLOODIED BLADE in hand, burst into the clearing to see Luan kneeling by Stav.

  "Am I glad to see you!" Luan said, then "What happened?" Fin glanced at his sword.

  "A tribesman was chasing me. I tripped and he caught up. We fought.” Fin paused. “I won." Luan looked at his friend, seeing the terror and violence hidden behind the short sentences. "Help me with Stav, he's still alive." They pulled at the boy's clothes, now sodden with blood, trying to get to the wound. It was a deep cut and a nasty one, the blood welling from the torn skin just below the ribs. Stav lay with his eyes partly open, his breathing shallow and quick.

  "This looks bad." Fin carefully teased fragments of cloth from the wound. "Did you see what happened?"

  "It was Cail." Luan started to tear strips from his cloak to make a bandage.

  "What?"

  "He was going to kill me. Stav tried to stop him."