by RG Long
Abigail pouted and shoved his hand away with a quick “Rude!” shouted in his direction.
“I'm going to the wall,” said Blume. “And you two aren't stopping me.”
She turned to exit the stable and make her way down to the battle. Jeremy and Abigail tailed her.
“Well, how do you suppose you're going to get down there? I saw lots of kids our age being brought into the castle while we were following you. I looked out the third story window by where the funny tree is planted in that large blue pot...”
Again, Jeremy interrupted her.
“The point is,” he said loudly, trying to drown out Abigail's babbling. “As soon as they see three teenagers headed toward the wall they're going to shuffle us back up to the castle.”
Blume couldn't dispute their logic, however annoying it may be at the time, but she wasn't going to give up her quest so easily, either.
As they came out of the door and into the morning sunlight, the answer stopped right in front of them.
Another cart, pulled by a pair of horses, came to a halt next to a few empty barrels.
“Here are some more! Grab 'em and throw 'em in the cart! Quick!”
Looking back over her shoulder Blume informed her fellow Speakers, “Come on, if you insist on following me. But be quiet!”
In another moment, the cart was headed off down the main road to the wall of Thoran carrying a few extra barrels and a few extra stowaways.
THE TEENAGE TRIO HOPPED off the cart as soon as it came to halt, hoping that the driver wouldn't notice and send them back to the castle.
Blume soon put aside all fear of being singled out, however.
The scene next to the wall was chaos.
Soldiers of every description ran this way and that. Some carried buckets of water to throw on several missiles from the goblins that had been sent over the wall in a ball of flames. Others carried armfuls of arrow quivers up the steps to the battlements and waiting archers. Still more carried heavy looking artillery pieces or a sword and shield.
Thoran was prepared to defend itself.
Amidst all the chaos, Blume felt exhilarated. She had experienced this before on the road with Holve and Ealrin. Whenever they were threatened or attacked, she hadn't wanted to run away from harm. She wanted to help with the battle.
Her two companions, however, seemed much less excited. Abigail was whimpering and grabbing onto Blume's arm. She was talking so fast that Blume could only catch every other word. The two that kept getting repeated were “scared” and “home.”
Jeremy was at least trying to seem brave. A quick glance at his face, however, proved to Blume that he was about as frightened as Abigail. The color had all but drained from his face and his fists were clenched tightly. His words were slow and purposeful.
“We ought to have stayed behind, Blume.”
There was no explaining the excitement she felt to Jeremy and Abigail. They had never used their gifts in battle before. She was the only one in her whole school to have been in any serious need of using Speaking to defend herself or her friends. Until they had been in a battle, Blume doubted they would ever really understand. It was when she was putting her skills to good use that she felt most alive.
This moment was no exception. Blume scanned her surroundings quickly, hoping for a glimpse of Princess Teresa. No such luck. But she knew that the battle-hardened ruler would be where the fighting was fiercest. It was at that moment that a man from the wall shouted “Enemy ladders!”
Before Abigail or Jeremy could protest, Blume was racing up the nearest set of stairs to the top of the wall. As she ran, more than one soldier looked at her in alarm. Blume gave them no time to tell her this was not a place for a young girl to be. Her robes were the color of most Speakers of Thoran, gold with maroon sleeve cuffs. The exception was the white trim added to the very tips of the sleeves. The white marked her, as well as Jeremy and Abigail, as a Speaker in training. Blume prayed the soldiers wouldn't know any better as she reached the top just in time for a ladder carrying a gray-skinned goblin crashed into the wall.
Adrenaline pulsed through her as she grabbed her necklace and pointed her hand at the sword-wielding goblin that leapt onto the stone defenses. She muttered under her breath and a shot of blue energy spun out of her fingers and hit the monster right in the chest, sending him flying back over the ladder and into another goblin. The two of them went crashing down below.
A soldier stared at Blume with his mouth wide open, while others around him began to fight back the other goblins who had climbed atop the battlements. Blume felt very proud of herself. Her first goblin killed and the battle had just begun! And just a stone's throw away, fighting off three short goblins herself, was Teresa.
Blume was running towards her before she had any other thoughts. Had she not been pulled backward so quickly and violently, she would have reached the princess in just a moment's time. Irritated and confused, Blume looked back to see that Jeremy had one of her arms and Abigail held the other. Jeremy was shouting.
“What are you doing!? You're going to get yourself mutilated up here!”
“No!” Blume shot back at him. “You're going to get me killed! Let go!”
Though she struggled with all her might, her spell had drained her just enough to make resisting her two classmates a real challenge. Blume regretted not eating more breakfast.
“Blume if we don't get off this wall we'll be chopped up by goblins or something far worse! Oh please come back down the stairs with us where it's safe!” Abigail pleaded incessantly.
The only thing more insane about her current state of affairs, thought Blume, was that there seemed to be goblins attacking the wall at every turn, save for where the three of them stood. If Jeremy and Abigail didn't let go soon, she was going to blast them off of her!
As she began to think of the proper words, she looked out over the forest and saw why no goblin ladders were being hoisted up at this spot. She also heard a soldier, who had just thrown the body of a goblin over the wall and back down to its own kind shout, “Incoming!”
The projectile hit the wall just beneath them, shaking the very stones they stood on, and sending the three Speakers in training down into the ranks of a thousand goblins. Blume twisted her head into the forest, spoke words she had read only yesterday, and the three vanished in a brilliant display of green sparks, just before they hit the earth.
10: The Forests of Thoran
The company from Thoran walked far that first week. By Lote's reckoning, the mountain pass that would signal their entering the lands of Beaton was still a week's walk away. Still to be crossed were the mountain passageways and the forest before them. To travelers unsure of their way, the forest could prove treacherous. But this group, led by an elf who had spent countless days roaming the woods, would not lose their way.
Ealrin was glad for that. The southern parts of Thoran had all been mountains and cliffs. The road had been clearly marked, even though at times slow going. The forest that lay before them was vast and, though the road they walked on now went straight into it, he couldn't help the feeling of foreboding that was coming over him.
The first few nights passed without event or hindrance. They slept in the open, keeping watching in shifts. As they marched closer to the forest, talk turned to how they would fare in the woods.
“Lote,” Ealrin asked the elf. “What do we need to be on the lookout for in the woods? Down south we were always on the prowl for goblins or for the Mercs. What should we anticipate inside the trees?”
“I've heard that the forest is full of ghosts,” said Gorplin in a hushed short of voice.
A few glances were exchanged between the travelers. Ealrin smiled at Bertrom, who halfheartedly returned it.
Surely he doesn't think he means it, Ealrin thought. Believing in ghosts is ridiculous.
As he looked around at the others, however he saw a few casting doubtful glances at the forest ahead of them.
“And I have never
heard,” said Lote, “of a dwarf who was a superstitious old fool.”
These words caused Gorplin to reach for his axe, but Ealrin put out a hand to him.
“You are not among enemies, friend,” he said. “But I have a hard time believing in ghosts as well.”
Gorplin looked at Ealrin seriously, which was quite out of character.
“You have seen goblins and demons. You've even seen a fair bit of magic, I hear, from that Speaker friend of yours. What makes believing in ghosts so crazy, eh?”
The dwarf gazed at Ealrin for a time. Then shook his head and let out a grumpy, “Bah.”
Ealrin looked ahead and shrugged his shoulders. With a pat on Gorplin's back, he let the matter rest.
“All the same,” he said. “We will still have to march through the forest. Unless you are willing to fashion us a boat from the trees and sail around.”
“Bah,” repeated Gorplin. “Cutting down the trees that belong to the ghosts is as bad as marching through the woods.”
Lote spoke up.
“I agree the trees should stand and that making a boat is foolishness,” she said with a back glance at Ealrin.
She doesn't think I'm serious? He thought.
“Nearly as foolish as believing in ghosts,” Lote added. "Inside the woods we ought to watch for hungry wolves or stray goblins. I doubt we'll find many threats inside. The trolls that once claimed them are now gone. The woods of Thoran have been quiet for generations. We ought to keep it that way."
She turned around and marched on at a quicker pace. The whole company had to speed up to keep stride with the long-legged elf.
Gorplin let out a humpf and continued to march along with the rest, though to keep up he nearly had to run. Ealrin knew the dwarf was still thinking over the prospect of walking through haunted woods. He was more concerned with Lote's dismissal of any troll threat at all; he remembered a rather humorous story from Roland about a troll who dabbled in magic.
After a gentle reminder from Gaflion that such a pace would wear out most of the party and cause them to stop their journey before the sun set, Lote slowed and the whole party let out a sigh of relief.
The scenery around them was astonishing and Ealrin was glad for the chance to appreciate the fall colors against fading mountains. The foothills of Thoran were truly a magnificent sight.
While most were content to walk in silence for a time and catch their breath, Gorplin had more to say.
“There's been many a strange thing to walk on these lands,” he said for only Ealrin to hear. “And the residents of what is now Thoran have not always been the keepers of this territory. Others dwelled here long before the trolls claimed the woods. Who's to say what civilization or peoples roamed free here? And I doubt very much they appreciate the living traipsing through their forest. Some men of the castle told tales of merchants and travelers taking this road, and never coming home again.”
“In times of war and with everything Teresa has told me about the lands beyond the castle, I see good enough reason for others to stay away without talking of ghosts,” Tory said. He had seen Gorplin whispering to Ealrin and had waited for them. The three of them were the last of the group.
“Bah,” was all Gorplin would say over the next few miles.
The company ate lunch on their feet as they continued their trek to the forest. Over the horizon, it claimed their view. Fall trees formed a wall against invading foothills and mountains, as if indeed they were protecting their boundaries. A road was visible that ran underneath the forest canopy to a faraway mound that Lote said was the entrance to the land of Beaton.
Even with Gorplin's short legs, the party was able to have a steady pace, though more than once he complained that he was the only one jogging. The edge of the forest was nearly within reach by the time night began to fall.
“Let's find a place to make camp on the edge of the forest,” Lote said.
“Best make it as far from the trees as you can,” muttered Gorplin under his breath.
Lote looked at him with annoyance in her eyes. The dwarf looked aghast that he was heard.
“One more word about ghosts from you, Gorplin, and I will personally ensure you sleep alone in the forest tonight!”
“Elf ears,” Ealrin said to his short friend with a grin.
SLOWLY THE TWIN SUNS began to set and dark shadows from the forest behind them started to lengthen.
Their packs were arranged in a circle around a small fire. Over the flames, two small fowls slowly roasted on a spit. Ealrin was already on cooking duty.
He was glad to be back on the road and traveling again. While he had been sequestered in the castle, Ealrin had felt moody and wished for wide-open spaces. Even just one afternoon of walking had lifted his spirits.
Perhaps, before he had lost his memory, he had not been one to settle down in any one place.
Stars began to appear overhead and Ealrin found himself listening in on the conversations of his peers.
Gorplin was sulking and staring into the trees ahead of them. No one was keen on asking him his opinion on whether or not they should go into the forest now. Unusually sullen, the dwarf sat and soured next to the fire.
Gaflion and Tory were having conversations concerning the goblin attack on Thoran. Tory expounded on how the defenders might best repel them, with Gaflion offering up a counter remark every now and then.
"Yes, Master Tory, but should they fire the southwestern catapults, they risk hitting their own troops on the western wall. Those were installed for extremely precarious situations only."
Ealrin wasn't sure what the difference between the south and southwestern walls of Thoran was, but he could tell that the two would have rather been defending their homeland than journeying away from it.
Bertrom was asking Lote about the forest road ahead, apparently still apprehensive about the march through it.
"It's been some time since I've traveled to Beaton, but these trees are good ones, or at least not as evil as other forests I've trekked through," she told him as she looked into the woods ahead of them.
Bertrom was not satisfied with knowing that these trees were only less evil.
"You mean the trees are...evil? Themselves?" he replied, attempting to hide the fear rising in him. Bertrom was a soldier. But apparently the thought of bad tempered woods along with the possibility of hidden ghosts had unnerved him.
"Trees have souls. They think and feel very much like you and I. Only the elves are able to discern their sounds. I sense a small threat inside, but nothing that this band can't handle I'm sure. Even with a dwarf who seems determined to scare our newest recruit."
She touched his shoulder in a reaffirming manner. The gesture seemed to bring Bertrom back a bit.
"Yes ma'am," he said. "I won't let Gorplin's stories of ghost get to me anymore."
"Good. You hear that dwarf? You're done scaring..."
Lote had looked over to the spot next to Ealrin.
The spot that had, until recently, had been occupied by Gorplin.
It was now quite empty.
EALRIN HADN'T HEARD the dwarf move. They all knew it was unlike Gorplin to wander off on his own without telling the party. Least of all out to the open expanse behind them. If he had said he was going to make a perimeter or to keep watch away from camp, no one could recall him saying so.
After a few jogs around the campsite, Lote was sure of the direction he had started off in.
"His tracks lead into the forest, but not along the main road. He's taking a smaller path," she reported.
"I don't suppose any of us are willing to wait until morning to go looking for him in there?" Bertrom asked. Ealrin couldn't help but note a slight glimmer of fear in the new recruit’s eyes, despite his previous promise to Lote. In his defense, Ealrin also felt uneasy about entering any forest in the dead of night.
"The forest is so dense and dark. I don't suggest splitting up to search for him," Lote said with a grimace.
"So you mean
everyone's going in there?" Tory asked. He huffed as he stood and shouldered his pack.
"If I find that dwarf first, I'll rap him so hard on the head he'll regret making me miss a night’s sleep."
Everyone begrudgingly put their pack back on and, after lighting a few makeshift torches, helped put out the fire. Dinner was distributed among the ranks on various sticks or knife blades.
And if they weren't about to step into the dark cover of the trees on a moonless night, Ealrin might have had more time to appreciate how his cooking was improving.
11: Ghosts in the Woods
Between the crunch of the newly fallen leaves on the forest floor, the blaze of the four torches that lit the path they walked, and the constant huffs coming from Tory, Ealrin wondered if the entire country would be aware of their passing through the woods.
“At least try to walk quietly, Tory. You'll wake every living thing in here,” Lote said as she looked at him sternly. Ealrin glanced back as well to the last of the group and saw that Tory was having a difficult time. Gorplin had a pack like the rest of them, but since he disappeared he was unable to carry it. The task fell to Tory, after some arguing, to carry the missing dwarf's things.
“I don't know what he packed in this, but it sounds like twelve cast iron pots and pans. Curse that dwarf!” said Tory in a voice that echoed throughout the woods.
The last sound of his voice died away in the trees and the group shifted uneasily.
“I would also ask you,” Lote said in a quieter, threatening tone, “to lower your voice, Tory Greenwall. I do not fear ghosts. But other things may lurk in these woods.”
Bertrom gulped audibly behind Ealrin.
“Let's go,” Lote ordered, turning again to follow the trail of the dwarf.
Had they made this march in the morning, Ealrin thought he would have appreciated the fall foliage and the beauty of the woods around him. As they had marched earlier that day and seen the woods from a distance, the fall colors had looked warm and inviting. Now that they were trekking through the vast tree trunks, the scene was less picturesque.
