A Quick Sun Rises (35 page)

Tam answered him patiently, with as much information as she could supply herself with Dor filling in the gaps when needed. Finally satisfied with where they were headed and why he turned his inquiry to the trees themselves. “Why are the Yei…yeilo….”

“YeiyeiloBaneesh?” Tam provided with a smile.

“Yes, those. Why are they so special?”

Tam shrugged, turning to Dor for help. He looked to be deep in thought for a moment and then shrugged as well. “None of us have ever seen them before. It’s said they are what made us.”

“And how is Master Thane to get arrows from them?”

Tam and Dor both shook their heads. “Again,” Dor replied, “we don’t know.”

“What about Thane? Surely he knows, right?”

Tam smiled and looked at their friend in apparent conversation with the Kybara he was riding. “I don’t think so. The fact that there are trees at all and that we’re heading toward them is really more than any of us thought was possible. Certainly we held to hope but it was always the hope of the desperate. I don’t think any of us expected this.”

“But what if, after we get there, he can’t draw the arrows out?” Domis pressed.

“Let us worry about that when the time comes,” Tam said with a slight sigh, biting her lip when Domis briefly returned his attention to his food. What if, indeed? All of them knew how desperate their situation was and that any chance of survival depended on their ability to supply the arrows needed to bring down the dragons. Even Thane, with all of his abilities, was no match for the awesome power wielded by the dragons. Were there only one, none doubted that he would use his Tane to bring it down, most likely sacrificing himself with the effort, but he could not face them all.

Too soon, they were once again riding through the Underwoods toward whatever fate had in store. The Kybara seemed not to tire as the trees passed by in a blur of movement. Never did they pause or turn back but as if guided in their rush through the thick forestlands. Short stops were allowed, more for the passengers then their carriers, but only enough time to eat something and stretched. The day, though long, seemed almost to pass in moments as, once again, the woods grew dark. The slightest spark of excitement began to spread through the Kybara that only fed that of those they carried.

“
Soon
,
you will hear the song calling to you
,” Aisig’s mind touched Thane’s. Turning back to his companions, Thane could tell that Dor and Tam had heard him as well. Willing his eyes to see more and his ears to hear more, all that he could pick up was the waking sounds of the forest as death once more passed beyond its daylight barrier and unleashed itself upon the woods. The screams of the killer and the killed seemed to be all that broke through the normally eerie silence that ruled the Underwoods during the day making them all want to cover their ears to shut out the horrors of the night.

Pressing forward, the Kybara seemed unconcerned with the coming night and the desperate sounds that announced it. On they continued as if by a well worn path pressing ever closer to their destination. A scream to the right announced the dying cry of another life snuffed out and then sudden silence overcame them. Not the silence that had tickled them between the shoulder blades speaking fear and doubt to their minds, but a silence that felt almost reverent and harmonized with the best portions of their souls.

A welcome feeling of joy slowly came over each filling their senses with warmth and promises of peace followed by the slightest sound. The Kybara slowed and all cocked their heads to try and hear what it was. As they continued forward it seemed to grow with each step as if it called to them, pulling them closer. Whether it was a sound that touched their ears or, like their communication with the Kybara, was something more intimate, none could say but suddenly the most beautiful and peaceful song washed over them; one so hauntingly stunning as to draw tears.

“
You hear it now
,” Aisig’s voice pressed so irritatingly into their minds compared to the song. “
We will walk now
.”

Without argument, the companions dropped to the ground, the aches normally equated with such a ride not present. Even Domis seemed to sense something special as he slid off his mount’s back and fell in line with the others as they walked forward, the song growing in their hearts.

Soon the woods began to thin, the trees in which Thane had sensed such evil began to diminish as if unable to bear the peace that washed over the area. Light grew steadily chasing away the Underwoods’ shadows and those that had taken root like cobwebs in their hearts. Then a collective gasp broke through the tranquil air as all caught their breath. There they were. They could see them. The Underwoods had just ceased to exist giving way to a meadow in the center of which stood the YeiyeiloBaneesh.

None could pull their gaze away from them as tears flowed freely down their faces. The last five remaining trees that had once made up this forest, were all that stood as a reminder of what once was the majesty of the Chufa race. Straight up from the ground grew their trunks, the lowest branches growing out in a curved manner snaking back and forth was matched by those above them creating a large umbrella canopy that was open to the sun’s final rays as it sank below the surrounding woodland. But the light did not seem to dim as if coming from the trees themselves.

The leaves were broad and full covering the branches in a kaleidoscope of colors mixing into a rainbow of the deepest greens, bright reds, oranges, violets and soft blues. The scent of fresh, clean earth washed over them eliminating the stifling stench from the Underwoods that had dull their senses leaving them refreshed and making it so much easier to breath. The song of birds was heard in the upper reaching branches speaking of life and renewal chasing away the last vestiges of the previous days’ journeying. The tree’s song cradled them, rising in welcome and beckoning them forward as they were just as excited by their presence as were the Chufa.

Thane felt his senses being pulled forward as he stepped ever closer drawing him into the largest tree that stood in the center with the other trees positioned at each station of the four directions. Suddenly he could no longer feel his body as his mind seemed to enter the tree becoming one entity instead of two. All of his feelings, his past, his dreams, were left bear as were that of the tree. He traveled through years of standing and waiting, doing what he could to protect the others, to help them grow even though the shepherds were no longer. Patiently he waited, hoping against hope that one day they would return and call others to life. And now, here was one like unto the great one who walked the woods so long ago. His need was evident, his desires, his heart—their heart—now beating as one, now one in all things and all purpose. The Tane sang to crescendo burning through the body that contained its power; its promise. Anchored as it was with the YeiyeiloBaneesh it became fully awake and the one who was once Thane was now part of it, no longer one separate, but the Tane itself.

The body that had been Thane suddenly lost all sense of itself while Dor, Tam and Domis watched with a strange lack of concern as it fell to the ground as if lifeless. Then, as if called to follow, they too lost feeling of themselves, falling as well as if feathers gently lifted and caressed by a passing wind.

Chapter Twenty-Six 

Reks pressed his cheek against the horse’s neck mixing its sweat with his own as he kicked its flanks begging for greater speed. The wind pushed against him, an enemy to his need. His body ached with fatigue, muscles crying for relief but he dared not stop to rest. His horse, he knew, was nigh unto its end but he could not let up. She was strong; it was just a little further. He could tell by the lay of the area that they had not passed more than a day before. With his speed, and their lack, he figured an hour more, two at the most. Patting his horse’s neck he prayed to all the gods that she would make it.

* * *

Ranse motioned to the archers to fit their arrows and prepare to draw. Checking their position, hidden amongst the trees on the small rise, he felt certain they would go undetected until it was too late to react. Their enemy’s confidence precluded them from sending out an advanced guard; they would pay for their mistake. Checking the skies as best he could he was unable to mark any of the dragons though it was impossible to be certain. Looking back, his heart sank at the size of the enemy. With a slightly elevated position he had a grand view of the massive line of soldiers snaking back as far as his eyes could take in. The ground fairly shook with their march. He hoped it would be enough to at least slow them some.

* * *

Reks almost cried out in relief when he finally spotted the tail end of his quarry and the rear guard that was now turning about and racing toward him. He slowed his horse to a trot, giving her a much deserved and much needed rest. Stroking her neck he whispered words of thanks, her flanks flaring and contracting with labored breaths.

* * *

Jack’s expression lifted with the rising mountain that rose from the landscape like a lonely beacon in the distance. Bedler’s Keep. It appeared they would make it after all.

* * *

Ranse’s arm dropped and a volley of arrows shot out of the trees like a flock of birds scared into flight. The front lines, mostly orcs, dropped as a cry went up from the enemy who turned toward the trees in rage. Ranse sent another volley before ordering his men to their horses. Though they were on the high ground and could put up a good fight, hid in the trees as they were, it was only their intention to slow them. Falling back quickly, they disappeared into the woods and turned to the west while the enemy crashed through the foliage in search of their assailants.

That should at least buy us a half hour if not more
, he thought

* * *

Reks was ushered through the throng in search of the king’s party with a guard leading them and two others flanking him. He had news that could only be delivered to his majesty and he was not about to fail in that trust. His horse stumbled and he knew she had given all she was able. “Just a few more minutes,” he soothed, his own body covered with aches and sweat. He was amazed at the number of people, both common and merchant, that marched toward the distant keep making his message all the more important.

Reks recoiled at the wolg that suddenly appeared amongst the refugees and called out a warning while reaching for his sword. The guard to his left grabbed his arm before he could pull it free as his horse whinnied in protest. “Don’t be fearin’” the guard offered. “It be His Majesty’s pet.” Reks stared in disbelief, but didn’t question as he returned his sword to its place.

Jack, having heard the commotion, turned his horse about and with a nod to the guard moved off the road. “What’s the problem?” he asked, taking in Reks and his trembling mount.

“I must speak with a man named Jack,” Reks said quickly. “I have a message from His Lord, Prince Ranse.”

“Then deliver it,” Jack said easily. “I am Jack.”

“Sir,” he saluted, “I was sent to inform you that the enemy is on the move and fast approaches.”

“How long,” Jack inquired.

“Half a day at most, sir. Maybe less.”

Jack grabbed Reks’ arms. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, sir. At your current pace and theirs, there’s no doubt but that they’ll reach us by the sun’s setting.”

* * *

Again positioned, but this time on the south side of the road, Ranse looked over the men he’d brought out of Aleron. All were focused, their visage fierce with determination. These were no mere honorific guard that had been dressed for ceremony or pomp, but men accustomed to the ugly truths of battle. Hardened by the constant assaults made upon their city, their hatred for orcs was only surpassed by their love of country and family. Ranse was proud to be amongst them. This was their only hope in giving Jack enough time to get Calandra’s refugees safely to the keep.

Readying their arrows and waiting for the command to fire, they watched as once again the enemy’s front lines moved into range. A bit more wary this time, they were still, nonetheless, easy targets as they pressed forward. A company of trolls had been placed in the front as if their massive forms would be enough to resist the coming onslaught. Dropping his arm in signal, the arrows whooshed past meeting their marks with deadly exactness. But this time the enemy was better prepared. As the trolls went down, two lines of orcs turned toward the attacker’s position and loosed their own volley of arrows. Luckily, Ranse’s men were not without cover, ducking behind the trunks of the trees where the orc’s arrows were embedded with a thunk. Ranse regretfully passed up the order for a second volley as they no longer held the element of surprise and were forced to run instead. Another swarm of orc arrows broke through the tree line after them but fell short of their targets as the men quickly mounted and rode off.

Ranse glanced back as orcs, goblins and trolls alike rushed into the woods that had hid them. He cursed knowing that the next time would not be so easy and that their strategy of slowing the enemy was not working as well as he had hoped. Yet, they had to try again.

* * *

Jack pressed through the refugee camp as fast as possible amongst the milling crowd that had suddenly been brought to an almost complete halt. Word had been sent through the camp that all but food and weapons were to be cast aside as they were forced to increase their speed. The expected outcry by the wealthiest among them at being forced to leave their most precious possessions when their goal was finally in sight had ground down their progress as they dug in their heels in protest. The frustration and anger that seethed through Jack was palpable as he ordered, yelled and then finally drew steel on any puffed up merchant who was unwilling to comply. Again he was reminded of how the wealthy seemed to be disconnected from reality when it came to their possessions. Too many were willing to not only risk their own lives, but those of their family and others all for a shiny bauble or trinket that was of no worth when gripped in lifeless hands.

Again he shouted, sword drawn, as the echoes of the soldiers could be heard up and down the line making the same threats. It was well into an hour since he’d received word before the column of refugees finally took flight, their speed, gratefully, increasing as they went. Carts and wagons that had been the label of many a merchant’s wealth had been left to the side of the road, many filled with precious gems and metals or silks and fine fabrics not easily found in the kingdom. Guards were now set to protect the goods from greedy passersby who might be tempted to loot what had been left and in turn slow them all down again. Jack had made it clear that anyone who tried would be punished by death forthwith and their bodies left to rot.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get the people to move any quicker until the enemy nipped at their heels. It was his hope that by that time they would be close enough to the keep for the desperate run that would be sure to ensue. A small detachment of men were dispatched to lead the refugees into the keep, while Wess and his command from Hell’s End Station had been sent ahead to warn the city that rested in the keep’s shadow to retreat into the mountain fortress. The remaining soldiers, who weren’t protecting the discarded wealth, followed Jack to the rear to return in search of Ranse’s party to assist with the hit and run tactic to help the Calandrians reach safety.

Jack bit his lip as they pressed their horses into a slow gallop. They needed more time.

* * *

Brak smiled at the chaos that ensued once word had been shouted throughout the streets that all people were to gather as much food and weapons as could be carried and remove to Bedler’s Keep. A drop of spittle escaped his mouth and dripped down his chin as he barely restrained himself from dancing about with anticipation. “He’ll be comin’ back nows, I jes knows it,” he hissed, lifting his first to the skies. “And I’lls be here awaitin’ to git ‘im for yous Zel,” he said and then punched a fat man waddling past with an arm full of potatoes, dropping him and his load into the ally. Shoving as many of the potatoes as he could into his pockets, he left the man unconscious as he turned toward the main street and pushed his way toward the front of the line wending its way toward the keep’s main entrance.

* * *

Myles moved his company slowly toward the enemy lines. Looking to either side his eyes pierced the trees that cradled the road but he was unable to discover any movement. They were close; he could smell them as much as feel their feet pounding into the dirt. The horses seemed restless feeling the nervous excitement that gripped the men just before battle. But their purpose was not to engage the enemy directly—at least not yet. Raising his arm he signaled for a halt. They remained silent, waiting; only the occasional jingle of the bridle or a horse’s restless stamp making any sound.

Around a slight bend in the road, not a hundred yards in the distance, the first line of the enemy suddenly appeared, wavering for a brief moment as their eyes locked on Myles and his men. Ignoring any sense of caution, the enemy’s front lines broke from the rest and charged headlong toward the defenders. Myles and his men remained motionless, not even moving to draw swords.

Rushing forward, they got within fifty yards of their prey when a sudden rush of arrows cut them down from either side of the road. Angered and salivating for blood and revenge, others raced forward followed by even more as word passed down the column sending goblin, orc and troll running pell-mell toward Myles and his men. Coming around the bend as they were, most had not seen the ambush that had befallen their comrades and another volley cut down a good fifty of their number, piling up their corpses in the road.

The enemy swarmed into the trees in search of those responsible but was further enraged to find the woods were empty. Turning back to Myles and his men, they rushed forward. Waiting until they were almost upon them, Myles finally gave the signal and he and his men retreated back up the road at a fierce gallop, chased almost at their heals by a group of trolls, their long stride pulling them ahead of the group. They were easy targets for the men who had set up for another ambush and cut them down quickly with another flight of arrows.

Now they were out of the trees. Myles and his men passed through onto a large meadow area and were quickly followed by Jack and Ranse leading their own men out of the woods from either side of the road. Quickly forming a line, they all drew their swords and waited for the enemy to catch up. The men were anxious. Finally, the chance to meet them head on instead of hiding behind a branch.

They didn’t have to wait long as the road released a flood of combatants rushing out of the trees and coming down the road howling in a frenzy with the scent of blood fresh and their quarry no longer protected. Jack quickly raised his sword and then cried out for the men to charge.

Breaking through the front line, the men cut down their opponents with ease and precision as they slowed to take on the second row. The clash of steel and the cries of the dying quickly erupted as blood soaked the ground. In the first moments, the soldiers held sway slashing and hacking to the left and the right, but where one went down, two took his place and the tide of battle was at the verge of turning. Calling out to those around him, Jack sounded the retreat as more of the enemy rushed forward anxious to join the fight. As previously decided, all turned and raced back angling their withdrawal in a northwesterly direction in an attempt to pull the enemy after them and away from the road.

A soldier next to Jack went down and was immediately trampled and crushed as the enemy pressed after them. Jack cut the arm from an assailant reaching to pull back on his bridle with his horse kicked in the skull of a goblin grabbing at its flank. Though able to extract themselves, it slow them just enough to leave Jack open to a massive rock troll’s deadly swing. Spittle flew from the trolls mouth as he brought his club to bear, swinging with full force for Jack’s turned head.