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The Travelers' Song

Page 19

by Brendan O'Gara


  “There are four of them, over by the tree I pushed over, right next to our damn horses,” Thalin said in a raspy voice. Tilting his head to one side he continued, eyes closed.

  “There’s one further up the trail from the water. He’s tending to their horses. We’re pinned in here.” Thalin opened his eyes and looked at his friends. Gadlin helped his friend to his feet. Then he ushered Thalin and Wandalor further away from the opening so that he could speak to them safely.

  “Look, I’m going to call out and get them talking. Maybe we can come to some kind of peaceful solution. If not well, then, it’s a good thing the two of you are over here coming up with a real plan. I saw two Ravens on the left. Elven Ravens are often young and ignorant. I did see a Silver out there or blonde, older and more wise. If they can’t be reasoned with, this is going to get bloody,” Gadlin said.

  “Why does everything have to always result in violence?” Wandalor grumbled.

  “Wand, here in the open lands, the wild country, the only language most races speak is violence. It’s not the language I want, it’s not the language Gadlin wants, but it is the language,” Thalin said philosophically.

  “I don’t like violence for violence’s sake. I’m good at it but I don’t much like it,” Gadlin said. “Not like Darr.”

  Gadlin moved away as Wandalor and Thalin began to plan what to do if he was unable to talk his way out of the current situation. He reached down into one of his pouches and pulled out some cloth that he had used for bandage. He then removed one of his short spears from the holster in his back, placing the bandage around the tip of the spear. The others looked at him in astonishment. Gadlin shrugged. He slowly reached it out through the water until his crude version of a surrender flag became visible. A white flag in the view of the ambushers flapped in the breeze. Before Gadlin could get a word out of his mouth the white cloth was peppered with arrows, pinning it to the rock wall. He yanked his short spear back, turned it over, and repositioned it in his holster.

  "Well, they’re not interested in talk,” Gadlin said. “It looks like we’re going to have to fight our way out. You two got anything yet?" he queried.

  “I am going to put up a Wall of Will to defend us against the arrows,” Wandalor said.

  "What in Hades is a wall of will? Do I want to know?" Gadlin asked as his eyebrows shot up. “I don’t want to know.”

  "I’m going to use an overgrowth to activate verdant growth, holding the bastard elves in place. It will create plant life and matter out of the air around them. They won’t be able to move but will speak if I allow them. If I can get this Eldritch off fast enough, they’ll have time to signal for their runner or escape. You, Gadlin, can cut them down at will," Thalin said, his voice cold and calculating.

  "I’d like to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. I know the elves in this part of the world hate humans and anyone who’s not an elf, and I have led us in here. I don’t think that I could cut them down like wheat, unable to defend themselves. Elves are proud and they would see this as more than just a fight of escape from us. They would proclaim it an act of war. Blackweb will be blamed and that town wouldn’t survive. You saw what they had for defenses, and the town’s guard was laughable. We have horses fast enough to outrun elves on a warpath," Gadlin said plainly.

  “One day, Gadlin, you are going to have to explain just how it is you know so much about Elven races and their way of life,” Wandalor said to his friend.

  “Agreed. Gadlin for a half dwarf you know much about elves,” Thalin said.

  “The only woman I have ever loved was an elf. She was killed in a fire, and my heart has been empty since that day. However, there may be a dim light growing in it,” Gadlin somberly replied, skillfully avoiding the real question.

  Gadlin drew out his pair of short spears and nodded to his companions as they began working spells. Wandalor drew Eldritch from the air with his arms stretched out, turning his palms up, looking sternly at Thalin. His eyes went pale and he walked forward. Thalin walked one step behind Wandalor, drawing Eldritch power from the earth. His hands and eyes began to glow in a green hue. Wandalor cast his hands about, slowly moving them back and forth until his focus was on a point in the ether and his gaze could not be met. His back arched and he chanted, over and over, the same words: “Mantendu Segurua”.

  Thalin in much the same way as Wandalor focused in a singular thought, biting his lips, and his eyes began to water. To Gadlin it seemed that the two casters were slinging magic out of their experience, and he hoped their skills worked or this was going to be a short altercation.

  As they had spoken many times before, they all in turn said the words to center and unify themselves as a single machine of defense. “Slow and easy,” Wandalor said first, clenching and grinding his teeth between breaths as he continued his enchantment. “However, all the way,” Thalin continued the rote as sweat began to rise on his skin. “To the hilt,” Gadlin ended, tone relaxed and stride open.

  As soon as the trio became visible to the pair of younger Ravens, the archers let loose a barrage of arrows. The wall of wooden and silver flying death sent out by the pair surely would mean the end for the trio if not for the Eldritch of Wandalor. The arrows snapped and steel blades of death fell harmlessly to the ground as the trio walked calmly forward. Thalin cast his hands in powerful motions, out away from his body and his companions. He stopped them on the ambushers with the power of the Eldritch from plant matter that appeared grow in the mouths of the attackers. The stems and leaves twisted around their lips to prevent them from calling out. The vines and roots of the nearby plants grasped at their feet, holding them in place where they stood. They struggled against the verdant growth.

  Gadlin walked up to the Ravens and placed a spear tip on the shoulder of one, saying:

  “What we do for ourselves dies with us, while what we do for others lives on. We came here to reach the old gods, and they heard our prayers and were kind enough to grant our wish. Now, I know you and your kind—” Gadlin motioned to the other elves with his spear and then continued, noting to himself that the obvious leader had blond hair not silver hair. Also that the two rapid-shot elves both had black hair, proving his own personal supposition.

  “—believe that there must be justice and that we must die for this trespass...” Gadlin waited. Both Thalin and Wandalor stood behind Gadlin, almost motionless as they each kept their spells active and held tight to the Eldritch power that they summoned and commanded.

  “Oh, I realize you have no ability to retort so I will continue. Justice is about order. The punishment for the crime must be proportionate to the crime, and death is not comparable to trespassing. Though I could cut you all down like wheat, that is neither honorable nor proportionate, so in order to avoid all-out war we are going to leave here and leave you, all of you, in peace... alive.” Gadlin again moved his spear and motioned to them as a group.

  Wandalor released his hold on the Eldritch control and allowed the air around them to flow naturally. Thalin dropped his hold on the vegetation spell but kept hold on a ready spell to continue the fight if needed. Gadlin put away his weapons, and the three went about gathering up their gear and horses.

  “Worry not, I could have suffocated you and left no mark and no sound. However, as my friend says, that would not be justice. In about an hour the Eldritch of the plants will wear off and you will be able to move,” Thalin said to the elves as he mounted his horse.

  “Honestly Gadlin, I think you have been spending too much time fighting with Darr; you are starting to sound like him. This lot—” Wandalor motioned to the elves and shook his head.

  “—will be after reinforcements and on our trail within an hour.” Thalin finished Wandalor’s thought.

  “I know we can’t hide our tracks as I would have liked to do, what with being in such a hurry. I just have to hope that their sense of honor will outweigh their sense for revenge,” Gadlin said as he and his friends began to ride ever faster.

/>   “Look, all we have to do is to the return to the city of Blackweb. We have to ford the river again, hope not to find snakes in the water, and then ride on. Oh, and not run into that band of Orcs that we know are about,” Thalin drawled.

  “Easily done,” Gadlin remarked.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The elven lieutenant pushed his horse far and fast, the beast’s strong legs dodging and evading limbs that were hanging out in his path. The horse skillfully jumped over underbrush that hindered progress. Gaining time and ground, the lieutenant was certain that reinforcements would be summoned to aid his brethren. The forest was limitless, foggy, and blooming. Its canopy was monopolized by trees unnamed by the races of man. The rays of moonlight bursting through their crowns allowed for a variety of bushes to take over the branch- and twig-laden ground below. Thick tree limbs held on to a couple of trees, and a variety of night flowers, which desperately tried to claim the last remnants of moonlight, stood out against the otherwise dark terrain. A medley of animal noises, most belonging to insect songs, echoed in the air and overpowered the sounds of several prowling creatures in the distance. With the help of an Eldritch incantation the elven lieutenant’s steed pushed faster, passing over the ground quickly and efficiently.

  Built centuries ago, a triumphal arch outside the great valley loomed in the star-filled sky. Erected to celebrate the ingenuity and creativity of the people of this region throughout the ages, its position within this community was meant to represent the beating heart of the inhabitants and their dreams for the future. It was designed by an upcoming national artist who admirably captured the natural beauty of the region and used a pure style to convey her vision in this piece of art. Every element was crafted and created with premium materials from local suppliers, ensuring this monument would continue to provide local jobs whenever it needed maintenance. The elf passed under the arch and into the keep. Miles away Gadlin, Thalin, and Wandalor were on horseback, riding hard in an attempt to get back to the city of Blackweb before the elves returned with reinforcements and a war party.

  The air pressure began to drop and the natural surroundings became cooler. Thalin smelled and tasted the rain on the way. On the lead horse, he carved the path back. It fell to him to direct the others into or around the rain. The ultimate choice of where they were going was Thalin’s, and he knew Gadlin would agree no matter what he decided. The two had long since made a pact to back one another's decisions to the death when in the wild. Gadlin felt a phantom pain in his leg from a wound that had been healed. He knew there was no reason to feel it, yet it hurt enough to cause him to gasp. Gadlin also knew that there was rain coming and, by the looks of the path that Thalin was leading them, they were headed straight into it. “Thor is about to beat his anvil, and I think the clouds are going to weep,” Wandalor said aloud.

  “Yes, and Njorour is about to caress our faces with a gentle hand,” Gadlin called back over his shoulder.

  Thalin could hear his friends, however he did not care to listen as he rode carefully so as not to guide them into low branches or dangerous paths. The world began to darken from the storm. Not having the device to communicate with as a part of his ear like the others, Thalin called back loudly.

  “You two sound like a couple of old gnome women complaining about the men in the camp. What are you two on about now?”

  Wandalor put the reins of his horse into his mouth and with his hands began to fish around inside of his cloak. Both hands were working in a pocket as Wandalor began an Eldritch incantation. After the words escaped his lips a dim light of blue green slipped out with his hand. He released his breath and the light flowed out of his mouth. He pushed his hands up and away from him as he released the contents of his hands to the air above. Wandalor opened his hands at the top of the motion above his head. Gadlin saw a swarm of tiny insects fly out from Wandalor’s palms and up to the air above. The flying swarm didn’t dissipate. The bugs flew above the three men like a dark, fluttering cloud.

  The wind shifted and the rain-heavy clouds fell. The claustrophobic air was thick with moisture. As the thunder rolled across the sky above them and announced that the world would be washed with rain, Gadlin thought, Rain is good. The tracks that they were leaving in the sand would float away with the squall that was seconds away from dropping buckets of water.

  Thalin knew that he had driven them into this storm and that soon they would not only be cold from the air pressure drop, but they would be wet as well. Horses were prone to fear thunderstorms, and that was dangerous. A deafening boom rolled across the forest, announcing the start of the storm. The trio forded back across the river at the marked location. Without incident they had found the marker left behind as a precaution.

  Gadlin gathered the sapling poles they had used to cross the river and, while riding along after crossing the river, dismantled the bundle. He tossed the poles off his horse one at a time in different directions. The travelers moved their horses closer together as they rode. The horses nervously moved, not galloping quickly, and stepped with cautious hooves. They moved as speed would allow. The underbrush grabbed at the riders’ clothes, wet limbs slapping at them.

  “We need to be careful. I know we need to make time, but trouble always gives birth to triplets,” Wandalor said, running his fingers through his hair as the first few drops of rain fell on them.

  “That is the truth, my friend. The kimera, then the elves,” Thalin said, loud enough to be heard in an almost whisper.

  “If we’re lucky we’ll get back to town without finding the orc patrol, but if we are unlucky they will find us.” Gadlin spoke up.

  The storm was not held back another moment. The sky unleashed the torrent that had built up on the other side of the momentum. The rainstorm didn’t come in soft, delightful pitter patter drops on the leaves of the forest. No, this rain fell in droplets the size of eyeballs. Falling with fury, in an instant the world was wet. The rain fell like a sheet of wet burlap.

  The trio, their horses, and all of the belongings of the men remained dry. Gadlin was shocked. He held his hand out and was dry. When he held it out to the side, he saw the rain fall on his hand. He felt the cool, wet drops. Gadlin looked at Thalin and Wandalor. His mouth opened and then closed without a sound escaping his lips. Thalin, equally shocked, said, “Now I have seen everything...”

  “What in Hades?” Gadlin barked as a big blue dragonfly landed on his nose, appeared to smile at him, then took flight again. “What! It smiled at me!”

  “I asked some friends for some help...” Wandalor said and motioned up to the swarm of dragonflies flying above them. “You know, it is moments like this that I absolutely live for...” Wandalor chuckled.

  The trio rode in silence, watching the rain fall. All the while Gadlin kept his eye on the rear of the group. He was looking for the orc party that they all knew was there, hidden in the trees. Wandalor sat relaxed and confident, like a man who was content to ride with his friends across the lands no matter the weather. He held the reins inside his harpy cloak. He appeared as part of the horse, not a rider at all as he moved with the swing of the horse’s motion. Thalin was tense, eyes and ears were peaked for noise or a change in the rain that would betray the presence of peril. The group felt themselves getting tired. The effects of the herbs Thalin had given them hours ago was beginning to fade.

  The vast forest, thick with vines that dropped down from the limbs of trees, slowed their progress. The rain- storm took the slow pace of the horses to a crawl. Each step measured, careful not to step on soft earth. Moving hooves quickly, out of fear that mud would fold in with each heavy step and harm a horse by breaking a leg. The rain and the canopy made for a surreal, tent-like cover. The heavy downpour diffused through the leaves like a mist. The men came down the final ridge to the lowest forest floor. The continuous sound of the mists hitting the leaves of trees gave way. The trio heard a cacophony of sounds, predominately the sounds of vermin, reverberating through the air, creating an orchestra
of chaos washed together with the swaying of the tree branches. The three men were roused from the feeling of relative comfort that they had been under.

  Thalin’s nostrils flared, searching for a scent in the over-washed area. All he gathered was the smell of petrichor or ozone. There was a sense that lightning was about to strike the area. The animals could feel it, but they had no idea where the bolt would strike. Only that if they stayed still, in one place, the chance was better that they would get struck. The animals were running for the cover of rocks and fallen trees. “Come on! The animals know where not to be when Thor throws the hammer. Let us follow suit and run like hell!” Thalin shouted to his friends, spurring his horse into action.

  Thalin worked to gain vision and speed through the gully in the direction of Blackweb. Lightning did indeed strike the ground behind the men and the fleeing vermin as they rode, fear in their hearts. The storm was no ordinary beast. It was Thor beating his hammer, and the thunderous dissonance that continued was evidence of it. The powerful crashes and pressure of the air changed with such great effect that it threatened to take the very breath from the men as they rode their horses hard and fast.

  Wandalor looked back over his shoulder past Gadlin and saw great horrors in the rain. Gargantuan figures or orcs, he thought. Wandalor’s half-elf eyes pierced the veil of murky mists the rain created. Wandalor reasoned Gadlin’s human eyes mixed with dwarven blood did not see as well as human blood mixed with elven blood. Wandalor wondered indeed how well Thalin would see the pursuers. Wandalor believed that Thalin was a full blooded elf and that he was cast out of his own society. Thalin chose to live in the realms of man, though it was a private matter and one that Wandalor would never discuss openly with Thalin. All of that aside, Wandalor wondered what it was Thalin saw in the rain and shadows as they rode with wild abandon. to outrun the beasts that were in the rain.

 

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