by BJ Hanlon
“Me personally or the tribe?”
Dorset shrugged.
“Well, I originally am an anthropologist, there were stories of tribes in the north so I came up here to study them. They sort of took me under their wing. Fokill was born to my wife while I was away.” He paused for a moment. “She did not survive so I came back, retrieved him, and we’ve lived here ever since.”
“You never wanted to go back?”
“There were times, cold and hungry nights when the warm sun of Carrow was particularly enticing.”
“And the tribe? They’re not from near here… are they?”
“No,” he grew solemn and looked down at the corn mash. “They, we,” he corrected “are from the banks of the Hietcha Lake some two hundred miles northwest of here.”
“It was recent that you came to this place?” Said Edin.
“Very, only two months hence.”
“And your reasons for coming?” Edin asked. He remembered the horde of dematians in his vision and the way in which they covered the land. “What drove you out?”
He turned his head toward Edin slowly as if it hurt. “That answer is not one for this celebration.” He paused. “We will perform for you shortly. Please relax and enjoy the cocobo.”
Fokill stood and helped his father rise then the two men walked away leaving the circle a U.
It wasn’t long until a group of men began dancing, hopping on one foot and spinning with the other leg straight out. Warriors ranging from early teens to late forties hooted and sung to the beat of an animal skin drum. After a complete circle around the fire, the women joined. They danced before the fire then around it, circling counter to what the men were doing.
Edin leaned back and watched with his legs outstretched, across the way he caught Arianne’s eye. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
The dancing carried on well into the night. Edin thought perhaps they were telling a story but if it was one, he didn’t get it.
The drink gave him the wobbles and his head swam. He began laughing with Dorset and Henny. Spider had disappeared. A moment of clarity made him wonder what it was they were laughing about.
Then, it didn’t matter.
Edin woke to a brilliant headache. His mouth was sere and he could barely open his eyes. Tendrils of grass were barely felt despite them tickling his face.
There was a warmth lapping his face but a cold wind on his body. A few feet away sat Berka, grinning like a sheep dog that found its flock.
Edin blinked. He knew he was half in and half out of the tent flap.
“I don’t miss that feeling,” Berka said. He kept his voice low for which Edin was grateful. Berka had never been a man to kick someone when they were down.
“I’m never drinking again,” Edin croaked out. Firewater, that’s what he’d call it from now on because his insides burned like he drank flaming oil.
There was little movement around him and after a few minutes of trying to right himself, Edin stumbled down the stairs to a cold river a hundred yards to the west. There was a smattering of tribe members doing the same. As he drank the sun peaked through an opening in the clouds.
The first time he’d seen it in weeks. Maybe it was a sign of hope…
After dunking his head and drinking the freezing water, Edin looked around and saw they were at just south and almost between a pair of mountains rising to the north and southwest. Two very tall mountains.
The way in which the river appeared through the forest made it seem to have come from both.
Edin’s eyes hurt from staring up and he dunked his head in the running water again. He pulled himself out, closed his eyes, and laid on his side. His stomach gurgled and he hoped none of it would reappear.
He laid there for a long time until the sun was above him. Slowly, he pulled himself back up and saw movement atop the plateau. On the way to the river, almost everyone was moving slowly. Now they were moving a bit faster.
He climbed the stairs and spotted Arianne. She was doing something with another woman. She’d changed out of the dress though her hair was still braided and pulled up.
Edin stumbled over to her. He really wanted to sleep but wanted to see her first. He couldn’t even remember how he’d got to his tent the night before, though was getting your head inside actually sleeping in it?
“Hey!” Arianne yelled as she spotted him. “How we feeling?” Her voice was loud and banged around in his head like a drunk in an armory.
“Been better. Did you bring any coffee?”
Her grin didn’t fade, she stood and faced him. “That was some good dancing last night… and by good, I mean it looked like you were hit by lightning. Of course, you did burn a hole in the clouds with a bolt.” Arianne looked straight up.
Edin followed her gaze, felt dizzy and his neck stung. A thick, billowy cloud was directly above them, no hole in it.
She laughed and he looked back. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”
“I hurt all over.”
“Yeah,” she moved closer, put her arms around him and lifted herself on her toes. She kissed him, strong and deep. Then the kiss parted and she was grinning, holding back a laugh. “Sorry, I just… you looked like such a fool.”
“I love you too,” Edin said. He turned from her, he could hear the laughter across the camp and he ducked into his tent to try and sleep some more. Instead, he was met by Suuli, Aniama, Fokill, and Yechill across from Dorset and Henny. Berka was lying down pretending to sleep.
“Good of you to finally appear, Dancing Weasel,” Aniama said.
He heard Berka snort.
“I ahh…”
“Do not worry, the cocoba really does a number on me too. And Suuli here has shed his clothes more times than I can count after a feast.”
“Snake chase…” Suuli said grinning and shaking his chest causing the boney beads to rattle.
“So, you were saying?” Dorset somehow managed to chuckle out.
“Suuli saw you coming, he knew you were on the edge of the Great Beast. He sent us to find you because of your fate.” He looked at Edin.
Edin shifted and noticed Suuli staring at him, his deep eyes unmoving, unblinking, like a hunter staring at prey.
“We fled our lands as you have surmised and now is the time to tell you why.”
“Dematians,” Edin said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Berka’s head raise.
Aniama nodded.
“And you saw them?”
“Suuli did.”
“With his eyes or his… talent?”
“The latter of course. He said they were rising from the mountains.”
“The Esto Mountains?”
“Yes. They have risen in great tribes from deep caverns and holes like worms during a rain. He has seen them sweeping the north and spreading. Our homeland, a beautiful place, has been overrun. We escaped, other tribes were not so lucky.”
“I hope the Schuma were slaughtered,” Fokill said.
“Say not these words.” He turned to Edin. “They were our enemies. We’ve fought with them for hundreds of years.”
“Why have you brought me here?” Edin asked directing his gaze at the old seer. “If you have seen my future, you know I must head to the north, an ancient fjord…”
The man reached out his hand, holding it above the smoldering fire at the center. He held it palm up showing deep lines in the center and thick calluses on his fingertips.
Edin hesitated, he understood what the man wanted but wasn’t sure he should. An ominous feeling settled in his gut. The room was silent though he saw Berka was now sitting up and looking at them. Edin reached out and took the hand.
Nothing happened, what did he suspect was going to…
Then images filled his eyes.
It was nighttime and in the moonlight, giant dematians were marching out of an S-shaped cleft in the side of a mountain. They moved directly toward him. Their black bodies were sleek and were adorned with painted on red runes that me
ant nothing to him.
There were leaders in front who were adorned with white jewelry; necklaces, earrings and bracelets. He knew these were made of bone. Like Suuli’s.
Needle-like fangs protruded from their mouths and pointed ears reminded him they were cousins to the elves.
They marched as men, two by two. At their hips were swords but they held the long-bladed weapon that had given Edin the scar on his ribs. To one side, he saw a dematian, slightly smaller than the others with a red sash. He carried what looked like a gnarled tree branch. The dematian’s screeching voice echoed over the column and the dematians stopped. The vision rotated as if Edin were turning his back to see what the dematians were seeing.
He was on a ledge above a massive crystal lake. It was unmoving and vast, disappearing into fog.
Firelight and bands of smoke rose on the western side of the lake, wafting up and disappearing above the giant trees.
Around the lake it was foggy except for a path into the forest, a path that Edin knew led to a village.
He swallowed.
Almost like a blink, the vision changed. It was dark out and the dematians screamed as they charged into the village. They were loud, the sound was terrifying. All discipline from the march was gone. Some of the demons dropped their weapons in favor of claws and teeth and leapt upon humans like wolves on sheep. Humans that looked like the Foci.
A small gaggle of warriors, with hammers, swords, axes, or bows started to fight back.
A woman carrying a small bundle ran between two warriors as she fled toward the lake as a group of six dematians came at the men.
A tall man with a large hammer in one hand and a hatchet in the other stepped forward. Three of his companions appeared behind him and followed as the man marched toward the enemy.
For a moment, Edin felt hope for them…
Then more dematians flanked the group. The other warriors peeled off and fought with strength and speed.
The six attacked like wild beasts, viscous and savage. The lone man stood at the center, hacking and hammering as he parried and dodged.
Dark blood sprayed everywhere as hands, arms, and heads were lopped off. Jagged teeth flew like arrows piercing the ground, trees, and even other dematians. He moved like lightning, like a terrin, as he cut through the first six and then more. They kept coming from between and over burning huts and from the trees.
He heard a woman screaming and the warrior turned. At the edge of the pier, the woman and her bundle stood near a small canoe. Two dematians were chattering and approaching her from the bank.
The warrior hooted loudly and ran at them. He lopped arms and legs from two dematians in his way then threw his hatchet into the skull of one of the dematians. As it fell, the man swung his hammer at the other’s head.
The demon’s skull popped off and flew far off into the lake. The body dropped. The warrior yanked his hatchet out with a sickening slurp.
He ran up to the woman and helped her into the canoe then the warrior pushed off, paddling toward the center of the lake leaving behind a vast field of dead and dying humans and dematians.
The woman was wailing and he saw the entire village burning. Edin felt the pain. The sorrow and loss.
A moment later, Edin was back. His hand felt like it’d been roasting over a fire and he quickly let go.
Edin swallowed and wiped his eyes. After a moment he said “I have fought the dematians.” He lifted his shirt and showed the scar, the down stroke from Dexal, the cross from the dematian.
“Bull…” Berka started then trailed off as the whole tent glared at him.
Edin slowly shook his head.
Berka stammered “but… they’re legends, fairy tales.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Edin said. “I need to find… something that will help me stop them…” He didn’t want to tell them what. Edin didn’t quite trust the Foci. “and hopefully save the human race.”
Berka said “You mean magi…”
“All humans, even blotards like you…” Edin said.
“Take a pi—”
“Quiet…” Aniama shouted.
Berka swallowed and Edin turned back to the old man and said “I know of them, what is you it you brought us here for.”
The old man began speaking, with Aniama translating. “The man you saw, Ocop.” Yechill grew tense at the name. “He is a great warrior, he is Suuli’s son-in-law.”
“The woman and the child?”
“Suuli’s daughter and granddaughter.”
“Then why are they not here?”
“Ocop is proud and the leader of the Nocitoe, a neighboring tribe. He spoke of staying on our ancestral homeland and defeating the invaders.”
“So, you wish me to find them and bring them here?”
The old man spoke and Aniama translated again. “No, I knew you fought the demons and killed them. Though my family is not yet safe, the world is in much more danger. Even if they escape the northlands, they will still be in danger.”
Edin nodded.
“That lake though, it holds something. Something that will either burn humanity or save it.” Aniama said translating. “What it is, I do not know as many, many generations ago, it was lowered there by someone of the south.”
“Is that why you brought us here? We have business in the north but we go east, toward the fjords. I cannot take a detour to the middle of nowhere…”
The old man nodded and Aniama spoke. “You search for the Rage and the Birth stones.”
Edin held back a gasp, Dorset didn’t. “Tell us where they are?” Said Edin.
“You are correct, the Rage Stone is at the fjords. It is in an ancient place. A ruin from before man’s time.”
“Before man’s time?” Dorset said. “Man has been here forever…”
“No,” was all he said. “You must acquire the ancient thing in the lake to stop the rise of the evil. You must make haste for you cannot be delayed even a single day. Find it before the dematian king… or else.”
Edin shifted. “I have to go to the fjords, I cannot…”
“You must!” said Suuli, he stood quickly for the brittle old man and his voice grew. “You must go now.” Those words, though broken, were understood.
His voice quieted and he spoke again in his own language to Aniama who translated. “We will offer what we can to aid you. Time is short, if the dematian king reaches it first… I cannot see past that.” Then the old men and the warriors squeezed out through the flap and let it close with a thwap.
“They’re real?” Berka said. “You’re having a laugh…”
Edin looked at the smoldering fire. In the flames, he saw the attack, the men and women being slaughtered. The clawed hands, the weapons… the teeth.
The warrior was a terrin. He was out there with a wife and child on that lake.
But what could be below the lake? What was this item and what did it do? He was to find the remaining two Ballast Stones… what if while he was doing that, the dematian king… found something else, something worse.
“What do you think?” Edin said looking to Dorset.
“I follow you… he seems rather adamant though.”
“I have to talk with Arianne,” Edin said.
When he found her, she was not happy they had the conversation without her. “Why do men always think they can just exclude us because of our breasts?” she grumbled while grabbing them.
They were on the outside of the camp; he couldn’t enter her tent nor she his. More rules to prevent men and women from being intimate until marriage.
“Well?” Edin said, his eyes on what was in her palms. He looked up and saw she was staring toward the peak of the southwestern mountain. For a moment, he wondered how far they were from the keep she’d slept in for so long.
“Well you saw the dematians in this vision and this Suuli can actually see things, maybe we follow his advice. I mean we’re coming this way already due to a vision you had. At least this one has an explanation
.”
“It wasn’t a vision… it was the wave.” Arianne waived her hand dismissively and Edin sighed. “So, we go inland. I have a bad feeling about what we’ll find.”
“Me too,” she said. “But we have each other and our resident scholar.” She nodded across the village at Dorset.
The scholar was training with the sword and had an audience. Fokill and Yechill were watching like children listening to a teacher. Dorset had gotten better, but then a slash that turned into a twist threw him off balance and he stumbled.
Laughter erupted from the students and Dorset stood with a burning red face.
“If he doesn’t fight, I think he’ll be okay,” Edin said.
“Then we go. I only wish we knew what awaited us.”
“Have we ever known?”
Spider hadn’t returned by the time the five remaining members of the crew were ready to set out. Henny said Spider had left, headed south and took one of the half-destroyed packs.
He didn’t hold it against the man, he was a sailor not magi or warrior.
Edin stood at the edge of the sheer side of the plateau looking to the northwest and the gap between the two mountains. The tribe had circled east around the northern mountain and Edin wondered if there were a reason for that.
They had no map and no idea exactly where they were going but Edin decided to take the route around as the tribe had.
Edin strapped his sword on and held the quarterstaff in his hands with a pack slung over his shoulder. As they descended, Yechill and Fokill met them at the bottom of the steps. Both held animal hide sacks over their shoulders.
“We will join you on your quest,” Fokill said and Yechill nodded. “You will need a guide back to our homeland. The swamp is difficult.”
“Swamp?” Edin asked.
Fokill nodded. Both men had large weapons strapped to their backs and wore the thick fur cloak of the tribe.
“We could use it,” Dorset said hitching his pack up. Berka stood off to the side, he didn’t look happy about the trek.
Edin wondered if this put a damper on any plan he had to escape. Then he wondered if Berka would’ve been safer in the isle’s dungeon.
