by Toni Cox
By now he was hard pressed to keep up with them and he was sure that they were aware of his presence. He regretted once more that he had not chosen the Raven as his Prime animal, but then put his nose back to the ground and loped after the faint stench the creatures left behind.
It was another two days before the smell got stronger and he knew he wasn’t far behind. He used all his stealth and speed to catch up with them and he finally found their camp at Hinden Bay, a cove on the shores of Nithril Deep, during the dark hours just before sunrise.
His first instinct was to go on the attack. All five were sitting around a sheltered fire right on the water’s edge. Their meager belongings had been piled close to the shore and it looked to him that they were waiting for a boat to take them across the lake. But as he crept closer, he heard them conversing softly. Their language was foreign to him, but the sounds strangely hypnotic.
Curious, he changed into his elven form and sat down to listen. This melodic conversation was so different from the hissing and screeching these creatures emitted when they were fighting, that it was difficult for him to make up his mind on what to think. He sat for a long time listening to the sounds, trying to decipher what they were saying, but the only words he picked up were names and places of Grildor when they were mentioned.
He also noticed that all five of them wore proper uniforms, made from cloth and leather, with metal buckles and breastplates. It was a far cry from the ragged fur, bone, and inferior leather tunics they had been wearing only a year ago. Most of the ones he had hunted over the past Moons had still been wearing those raggedy clothes. Being dressed in this finery made them look almost dignified and only when one turned his head towards him and he saw the narrow, haggard face with the sunken eyes, did he remind himself of what they were.
He wanted to get information out of these Generals, but he was in doubt now whether they would understand anything he asked them. He made up his mind to just kill them before they could carry out whatever mission they were on, when there suddenly appeared a light in the darkness that was the lake.
It blinked on and off three times, went dark and then repeated the action. Almost immediately one of the Generals sprang to life and lifted a lantern, copying the signal.
Soon Blaid heard the splashing of oars and a small boat pulled up onto shore. To his surprise, an Elf, clad all in black and hooded, climbed out and greeted the Vampyres. Blaid silently crept a little closer, careful not to disturb the sand of the dune he was lying on.
“You are late. Vee need to ‘urry, vee are followed,” one of the Vampyres said in accented, but strangely pleasant, elven.
“I am sorry, My Lord, there were some problems launching the clipper without suspicion. It is anchored only a hundred paces off shore, I will get you there quickly.”
The General turned and gave some instructions to his companions, who immediately proceeded to load their belongings into the boat.
“’ow fare things on thee other shore? ‘as there been any progress?” the General asked the Elf.
“Things are progressing as planned, My Lord. The stronghold has been secured and some of the troops are already on their way to their stations. We have not had any problems.”
“Things ‘ave not gone as well ‘ere,” the General said, a derisive sneer now in his voice. “Not all informants as reliable as vee ‘oped. Is Kieran still at stronghold?”
“Aye, My Lord.”
“Good. I vant ‘im dispatched to Greystone as soon as possible. See that it ‘appens.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Douse thee fire, vee need to be gone.”
There was a faint hiss and a plume of smoke as someone upended their canteen over the little fire and then the only light was the small lantern on the boat. Blaid watched as the five Vampyres climbed aboard and the Elf pushed them off from the beach. He then took to the oars and soon they were out of sight, disappearing into the darkness.
Blaid contemplated what he had heard. He had gathered a lot of information over the past few Moons, but never anything as ominous as this. A stronghold. Troops to their stations. Informants. Traitors. If he were to make sense out of all of this, he would have to follow them across the water. He needed to find this stronghold, warn the cities of the troops on the march and learn as much as he could about the Vampyres’ plans.
At this point, the lake was almost two hundred miles across. He could never swim that far. He had no ship to carry him. Reluctantly he walked down to the water’s edge, the smell of Vampyre overwhelmingly strong here. He stood there, the small waves wetting his bare feet and he closed his eyes.
Shadow travel was difficult and took a lot of energy, yet it was the fastest way of getting from one point to another. It was only possible if one knew the destination and the way to get there. He had learned the art from his old master, and he had learned his lessons well. He could dissolve his being into shadow within a few heartbeats, propel his shadow-self forward and then reassemble his body in a place much further away. But shadow travelling also meant he would not be able to track and he would lose their scent.
Over land, it was comparatively easy, as one could stop to rest between each leap. But over water, things would be a whole lot more difficult. He tried to calculate the lengths of each shadow leap. He could travel up to twenty miles in but a moment, land, and be off again almost immediately. Over the lake, he would splash into the water with every landing. Naked as he was, even the warmer waters of summer would have him shivering by the end of the journey.
The clipper would take between twelve and fourteen hours to reach the other shore so, if he left right now, he would have time enough on the other side to regain his strength and then find out where the ship was to dock. He closed his eyes and channelled his energy. He began to quiver and soon even his teeth were rattling. Then, with a suddenness that took his breath away, his body dissolved into black mist and he was gone.
“Everyone is now present, My Lord,” Silas said.
“Very good,” he replied. “Let us start then with the inventory.”
They were sitting in her father’s rooms in the Hall of the Guardians. For once, Riker and Rothea had been allowed to join the meeting. Also present were all the Commanders, as well as the heads or the Weapon Smiths, the Builders, the Bakers, the Leather Smiths, the Bird Masters, the Horse Masters, and any other profession that contributed in some way to preparing for the coming war. Everyone had been tasked with producing either additional or specialized products and today was the day that Jagaer wanted a tally of what had been manufactured so far.
The sound of shuffling papers pervaded for a moment as Silas went around gathering the information everyone had brought. He then presented the papers to Jagaer and everything was still for a while. Maia noticed how everyone seemed tense and in such a confined space it was making her restless. The people feared they had not been able to do enough and most were worried that Lord Longshadow would be displeased with them.
“Silas and my daughter have successfully managed to manufacture four hundred and four vials of Silva. I have some preliminary numbers of warriors that will be sent to our aid and the tally so far stands at around fifteen thousand. We have more than enough Silva to sustain this army, although I wonder if we have enough warriors. Riders have been sent to the outlying settlements to recruit as many as they can. We are hoping to add at least another five thousand to our number.”
There was a murmur of agreement and a scattering of applause at the quantity of Silva produced.
“I see the Bakers have so far been able to make thirty thousand pieces of travel bread. Although not as powerful as Silva, it is nevertheless a vital energy source for our warriors. With trade having been impacted the way it has, resources have become scarce. I believe we only have enough to produce another ten thousand pieces at the most.”
“That is correct, My Lord,” Rivorn Soapstone, head of the Bakers, confirmed.
“My Lord, if I may?” Nemiron Deercoast, head
of the Farmers, spoke up.
“Please, go ahead.”
“We have been able to preserve a vast range of foods that will be nourishing and should make up for any shortages of travel bread. The Butchers have also been drying any meat that was not sent for distribution and the number of ration packs available now stands at twenty-five thousand. Each ration pack will sustain one warrior for three to four days.”
“That is good news, Nemiron,” her father said.
Maia watched and listened with interest as one by one an account was given on the number of items produced. Arrows, swords, shields, horse shoes, tunics, footwear, helmets, water bottles, medicine packs, axes, fire wood, hay, saddles and bridles, blankets, tents, spear tips and other items Maia had not thought would be needed for a war.
Once they had discussed everything, her father gave a brief account of what they could expect the other cities to contribute. Most could only provide for their own troops what they could carry, but Thala Yll had promised additional weapons, as well as rations, which would be dropped off at Shadow Hall within the next Quarter or so.
At the end of the meeting, all non-military personnel were dismissed and only the Commanders remained. Maia now went to sit beside Jaik, while Riker and Rothea retained their positions on the far wall.
Her father was quiet for a long time, reading some of the papers in front of him. Silas was silently making notes on the other side of the table.
“As we do not know for sure if and when this war will happen,” her father finally said, “we can only do so much to prepare for it. We assume that the main force of their army will come through Greystone, but with so many reports of Vampyres within Grildor, we dare not send all our forces to one place. Every city has agreed to keep a small fighting force within their city to safeguard it against any attacks from smaller raiding parties. We need to now concentrate all our efforts in determining our enemy’s intentions, so that we are not caught off guard again. Jaik, have you learned anything new?”
“No, Father. It seems that all Vampyre activity around Shadow Hall has stopped. Tarron Heights has not had an incident in over a Moon and the guards at Greystone have reported no movements in the vicinity.”
“Mm, I am not sure if that is good news, or if it should worry us more,” Jagaer mused. “I do not like it when they are still like this. I wonder what they are planning.”
“Somas should be back by this evening,” Jaik said. “Hopefully he will have information that…”
“NO!” Maia screamed and jumped to her feet.
Immediately Jaik and Riker were by her side, helping her to remain standing. Every fibre in her body was quivering and the urge to throw up was so strong, she was gagging. All the men could do was to hold her until she calmed down.
“Breathe, Maia,” her brother said. “Slowly.”
Maia took a sobbing breath. And then another.
“Something has happened to Somas,” she finally managed to say. “I have to go to Greystone. Right now.”
For a moment, the men looked at each other, then they nodded.
“All right, we will leave immediately,” Jagaer agreed.
“No, it will take too long. I will take Midnight. You can follow.”
“Maia, you cannot…”
But Maia had already turned and was running toward the door. Riker and Rothea were right behind her and her brother, father and the Commanders were left scrambling to follow her out of the building.
Midnight roared in the distance, but Maia knew he was on his way as she ran as fast as she could to the field by the Silver Forest. It was the only place within the city large enough for Midnight to land without trampling any of the city’s landscaping.
“Get your horses and follow me there,” she shouted over her shoulder before she disappeared between the trees.
By the time she reached the other side of the Silver Forest, Midnight was ready for her. Without breaking her stride, she ran up his outstretched leg and, clinging to one of his neck spikes, swung her leg over his neck and settled into position. Midnight took off immediately and with a few downward strokes of his mighty wings they were high above the city and he then turned south, speeding towards Greystone.
By the time they had reached the midway point, Midnight made her aware of a messenger pigeon flying below them in the opposite direction.
He has already arrived. I hope we are not too late. Maia thought frantically.
The wind stung her eyes as Midnight gave it everything he had. The landscape below was just a blur and, only when she felt Midnight slow, did she realise that they were near. She could now make out the great stones below them as Midnight descended. Her ears popped with the speed with which he dropped.
Midnight landed with a thump that shook the earth and Maia heard some startled shouts from within the circle. Quickly she released her grip on the spike in front of her and, too much in a hurry to run down his leg, dropped straight to the ground. The impact jarred her and she bit the inside of her cheek, but she hardly felt it as she ran between the stones.
“Lady Maia.” She was greeted by one of the guards, who was visibly shaken, yet delighted to see her.
Without exchanging any pleasantries with the man, she immediately ran to the prone figure lying next to the central slab of the circle. Another guard knelt over him, holding a wad of cloth to his stomach. Maia’s stomach heaved.
“What happened?” she demanded of the guards and then bent to examine Somas.
“He only arrived back a short while ago. We sent a pigeon. We did what we could, but his injuries look grave. He has not spoken.”
Maia nodded to the man, then removed her knife from its sheath and proceeded to cut away Somas’ clothing. Tears sprang up in her eyes as the injuries were revealed, but her hands were steady. She quickly dismissed the broken leg, the torn ligaments, the bite marks on his arms and the slash across his back; all of this she could heal. Her initial worry was the massive hole in his stomach and the mass of intestines that was quelling out of the opening. But once she had removed his entire shirt, the true horror of his injuries was revealed and she closed her eyes for a fraction of a moment to steady herself.
There, right in the centre of his heart, was an arrow head. The wound was slowly seeping a reeking, black fluid and even as Maia looked at the gruesome sight, she felt Somas’ life ebbing away. His heart fluttered, then stopped and then fluttered again.
Maia began by channelling as much energy as she could into Somas to give him the strength to fight for his life. Then she hesitated; she had to remove the arrow head to extract the poison, but removing it would make his heart bleed out. And he had lost so much blood from his other wounds already. She had no choice though. With her knife, she gently lifted a corner of the arrow head. Somas screamed. Maia clenched her jaw and carried on. As the tip came free with a terrible suction sound, more black ooze, followed by bright, red blood flooded from the hole. The stench of the ooze was almost overwhelming and Somas’ agony was draining Maia’s energy. Gritting her teeth, she concentrated on drawing out the last of the poison and at the same time sealing the cut in Somas’ heart. But even as she was busy, she felt his Eläm slipping away.
“Fight, Somas, fight,” she cried.
“They are coming,” Somas whispered so quietly she almost missed it.
One final flutter of his heart and then he was gone.
By the time the riders reached her hours later she was still sitting next to Somas’ dead body, crying.
“Maia,” Jaik said gently as he picked her up off the ground and took her in his arms.
“I could not help him, Jaik,” she sobbed.
“I know. His wounds were too dire. It is not your fault.”
“I could not help him,” she whispered again and then she sagged against Jaik, having finally fainted from exhaustion.
He hit the water with a force that shook his entire body and then he was under, struggling to breathe. With a few powerful strokes, he made it to the surf
ace and gasped for air. Treading water, he looked around, but there was nothing to see in the darkness just before dawn.
He would have to work on his landings; this had been painful. The lake was already deep here and a lot colder than he had hoped. He felt the abundance of life beneath him, but did not stop to contemplate the types of creatures that lived below the water. Concentrating, he began to channel his energy for the next leap and found that it was a lot harder with his body submerged; he had to use a lot more energy than he would have liked.
The next landing was not any easier and he got weaker and weaker with every shadow leap he made. Finally, he could see the shore on the opposite side in the advancing light of dawn. A silver Sea Dragon was floating on the surface of the lake not even twenty paces away and was watching him with curiosity.
He concentrated on a small, green meadow atop a cliff and hoped he could make it there in one bound. It took him a long time before his body finally responded and dissolved and, when he landed on the meadow, he lay there for a long time before he was able to move.
Once he had recovered some of his energy, he sat up and surveyed his surroundings. The sun was just rising in the east and the mighty Crystal Mountains loomed as a large black shadow over the land. The coastline stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction. He was unsure of exactly where he was, but he assumed that he must be at least thirty to forty miles north of where the Anora River joined Nithril Deep. He could only guess at where the clipper with the Vampyres would moor and it would not be for another few hours. So, he took some time to rest. He dared not make a fire, but when a hare happened to jump onto the meadow, he quickly changed into the wolf and ate his breakfast raw.
