Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) (22 page)

Something on the other end grabbed hold of him. Justan found himself pulled through the link and felt a moment of panic as he lost all sense of his physical body. This was going further than needed for communication. It was more like the time he had nearly lost himself altogether in Gwyrtha’s mind. Then the worry faded.

The bond turned from gray to a pink color and it seemed as if he were traveling a great distance at high speed, yet there was also a comforting feeling as though he were floating along gently, suspended in cloud. Time blurred and then a great weight settled upon him. More, it squeezed him, pressing in on his consciousness from all sides as if he had been plunged into deep water. But it wasn’t cold and it didn’t hurt, the weight was just there.

Then he heard the voice of the tree. It penetrated his very being. She spoke to him not in language, but in thought. In an instant she shared with him her lifetime from the beginning to the present. The one she called ‘the messenger’ had cared for her until the elves came along. She loved the elves. Playful wise creatures that enjoyed all things living. Untold seasons passed through Justan’s mind and he understood that the weight he felt was the enormity of the tree’s experiences.

Through those memories, Justan got a grasp of the tree’s purpose. She and her sisters were like a shining beacon made of elemental, spirit, and blood magic and they, by their very existence, held back a great sickness. Justan did not understand the nature of the sickness or what form it would take if unleashed upon the world, but the importance of what the trees did was evident to him.

Throughout the seasons the tree and her sisters had been constantly under assault. Greedy peoples and evil beings lusted after the power of the trees and as formidable as her magic was, she had no defense against physical attacks. Thus she and her sisters reached out to the elves and later the Roo-Tan to protect them.

They helped by giving small pieces of themselves to their protectors to use as tools in their fight. They allowed the elves to enter their physical bodies and retrieve what they needed. Justan understood then that the bow he had been given was a part of the tree’s living flesh, extracted from deep within her core where her blood magic ran strongest.

The tree’s avalanche of memories stopped, and she focused her attention on the present. A question was put forth to him. Would he join the ranks of her defenders? Would he do all he could to fight back the mortal threats of this world so that the grove could protect him in return?

Justan hesitated. It was evident that this was an immensely important cause, but his conversation with Jhonate from the night before gave him pause. Could he be both a named warrior and a defender of the grove? Would the two responsibilities clash and would this mean that he would have to stay and live in Malaroo?

He posed his questions to the tree, but all he received as an answer was a welcome feeling. She gave him no restrictions or specific instructions. All she wanted was a commitment. Justan found himself saying,
I will
.

At the moment of his decision, the weight of the tree’s presence lifted. He floated away through the pink ether, once again traveling at great speed.

Justan came back to his body with a rush of sounds and sensations. There was a sharp pain in his right hand and he heard screams. He opened his eyes to a brightening blue sky and lifted his hand to find it heavily bandaged. He moved his fingers and, though the palm of his hand was incredibly sore, he had full movement.

He was lying in his bedroll. Justan sat up, disoriented. He was out in the open. There were no trees anywhere. Jhonate was standing next to his bedroll, her back to him as she scanned the open wilderness. On the other side of him was a smoking campfire and beyond that, he saw other members of his party gathered around the screaming person.

Justan reached out and touched Jhonate’s leg. “Jhonate, what happened?”

She swung around, her staff swinging, and then her eyes met his. With a gasp, she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace was tight and furtive. “You are back! Thank the gods, you are back!”

“Jhonate, what happened?” Justan asked, returning her embrace.

She pulled back and kissed him deeply before responding. “We were attacked again in the night. There were four of them this time. Aldie was badly hurt and Jhexin as well. Weaponmaster Yntri is working on Aldie now.”

The screams rose again and Justan heard Sir Hilt swear, “Hold him down, blast you!”

 Justan pushed back his bedroll, wincing at the soreness in his hand, and stood. He felt a sudden dizziness. “What do you mean, attacked again?”

“This was the third night in a row. It was easier to chase them off the first two times because there were only two basilisks,” she said.

Aldie whimpered. Justan looked around and saw his swords lying in their sheathes next to his bedroll. He grabbed his swords and walked over to the others, not taking the time to put on his boots despite the frost on the ground.

Hilt, Poz, Qurl, and Jhexin each held one of Adie’s limbs down while Yntri straddled him. The elf was clicking out instructions while he had his hand shoved into a gaping wound in the young warrior’s abdomen. Aldie’s eyes were wild and he had a rolled piece of leather clenched in his teeth.

“Why won’t he pass out?” exclaimed Jhexin as he tried to keep the student’s leg still. The Roo-Tan warrior was on one knee, his other leg held out stiffly. It was heavily bandaged and bloodied from a wound just above his knee.

“Hilt, let go of his hand,” Justan said. All eyes turned to him except for Yntri, who was focused on the task at hand.

“Sir Edge!” said Poz.

“Thank the gods you’re awake,” Hilt added.

Justan drew Peace and crouched at Hilt’s side. “Aldie. Hold on to my sword. It will take away the pain.”

Hilt shifted over, freeing Aldie’s hand and Justan placed the handle of his sword into the young man’s sweaty palm. Aldie’s fingers clenched and then his body relaxed as the magic of the sword drained all of his pain and emotion away.

“Is that better?” Justan asked and Aldie blinked uncertainly. Justan knew how he felt. He was no longer in pain, but he could still feel Yntri’s hand in his innards. The sword would force him not to feel panic or fear, but that wouldn’t take away the nightmares later. Justan glared at Hilt. “Why didn’t you hand him my sword before? There was no sense in him going through that.”

“We tried,” said Jhonate. “Its magic did not work until you woke.”

Yntri let out an exclamation and pulled out what he’d been looking for; a thin stone shard. The wound bulged, Aldie’s innards threatening to spill out. The elf dropped his grisly find to the ground and reached into his pack to pull out his jar of Jharro tree sap. He smeared the pink substance into the wound and got out a long needle and thread.

Justan stood and ran a shaking hand through his hair. He cursed the fact that he couldn’t heal anyone but his bonded. If only he had control of his elemental magic. “You just keep holding onto Peace. Okay, Aldie?”

The young man gave him a frightened nod.

“It was that broken sword of his,” Hilt said picking up the bloody stone shard and examining it. “Aldie struck the basilisk, but the sword’s magic didn’t kick in until it was too late. The thing stabbed him just before it was sliced in half. This broke off inside the wound while we were pulling its stone body off of him.”

Justan looked out towards the edge of camp and saw three grotesque stone statues. The basilisks had all been in different stages of transformation as they died, twisted mixes of forms bestial and human. One of them had been split in two vertically.

“You killed a basilisk, Aldie,” Justan said, looking down at the student and giving him a nod of approval. “How many graduates can say that?”

Aldie managed a wan nod and Justan looked back at Jhonate. “What happened to my hand?”

“That happened the night before last. Our last night in the forest,” she said, looking apologetic. “During the battle, one of them managed to grab your hand. It tried to pull you out of the camp, but I removed its arm. Yntri says its claw would have pierced all the way through your hand if not for your naming rune.”

Justan reached up with his left hand and caressed her cheek. “Thank you, Jhonate.”

He looked at his bandaged right hand and gingerly prodded at the sore area. The wound seemed deep and he had to agree with the elf’s assessment. One of the little known advantages to being named was the strength of the rune itself. The bowl did not allow its mark to be marred or removed as long as its agent was alive. It could absorb a direct sword blow without being scratched and the arm the rune was on could not be severed. Justan was lucky, however, that the basilisk hadn’t damaged any major ligaments.

Justan turned his attention back to Hilt, who had stood and was wiping his bloody hands onto his trousers. “Where are we, Hilt? How long was I out?”

“We’re just south of Sampo,” Hilt replied. He sighed and placed a hand on Justan’s shoulder. “You’ve been out for five days. Yntri said we shouldn’t worry, but I really am glad to see you back with us.”

“Five days!” Why did this kind of thing always happen to him when there was something important going on?

“Weaponmaster Yntri cared for you while you were out,” Jhonate said. “He poured water into you, but you’ve got to be starving.”

So that’s what his weakness was about. “Yes I am.”

Jhonate trotted over to their packs and brought back some flat bread and a raw honstule. “We stocked up on these in the forest. You should have seen it. It was beautiful. The dark heart of the woods was gone, blackened stumps everywhere, but there was an enormous field of honstule in its place, thriving even in the winter.”

Justan bit into the yellow vegetable. He found the peppery taste a bit strong when it was raw, but he could feel energy returning to his limbs almost immediately. “We need to get Aldie to the Mage School right away.”

“That is our plan,” Hilt said. “But Jhonate’s brothers have been balking. They don’t want to set foot in the place.”

“Idiots,” Jhonate said. “Jhexin’s wound is bad, too. Without magic or a proper surgeon he may never walk straight again.”

Justan didn’t disagree. “We don’t need to enter the school to heal them. I’ll reach out to Fist and get healers on the way to us right away. We can meet them on the road as soon as Yntri is done stitching Aldie up. Is there any wood nearby we can use to make a litter? I don’t think he should be riding Stanza with that wound.”

“Right,” Hilt said. He called out to Qurl and the two went to cut down some thin trees at the side of the campsite.

Justan noticed Jhonate’s striking green eyes peering at him; assessing him, but he didn’t have time to talk to her. He closed his eyes and reached out to Fist. The connection came easily. He was only about a half day’s ride away.

Justan
! The ogre stood from his seat in the classroom and, knowing he wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement, ran for the door despite his professor’s stern rebuke, Squirrel scurrying after him.
Justan, I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to reach you every night. I knew you weren’t hurt, but it felt like you were so far away
.

In a way I have been
, Justan replied. He could hear Yntri clicking out orders in the background and knew he must be done stitching Aldie up.
Look,
Fist, we can talk about that later. We’re on the south side of Sampo on the road to the
Mage
School
, and we have some injured men. One of their wounds is severe. We are heading towards you, but we need you to get some wizards on the way
.

Fist immediately ran down the hall of the class building and out of the door into the center square.
I’ll find your mother. She will get a group together
.

Thank you. Please hurry
, Justan said.
I’ll see you soon
. He ended the connection aware that he was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he spoke to Gwyrtha and Deathclaw that night. Hopefully the rogue horse had caught up with the raptoid by now and they were heading back to him.

He opened his eyes and saw Yntri standing in front of him. The elf had his hands on his hips and his head was tilted towards Justan expectantly.

Justan frowned at him. “Why didn’t you tell me I would be unconscious for so long?”

“
This was not known
,” Yntri clicked and Justan realized that he could understand him because he was still wearing the wrist band that the elf had given him. “
I thought that a bonding wizard like you would commune faster. But your travel to her was slow. Your bonds resisted the distance
.”

“It was strange,” Jhonate commented. “I looked at you through my staff. The long tendrils of white magic that usually touch everything around you were gone. All I saw were faint strands.”

Justan shook his head. “I had no idea. She showed me her whole history.”

“Then you succeeded,” Jhonate said, smiling, “And did you accept the burden?”

“I did,” he replied. “But we can talk about that later. Where are my boots? My feet are freezing!”

They packed up their camp and headed out, Justan and Sir Hilt carrying Aldie on a litter stretched out between them while Jhonate and Yntri scouted ahead. Jhexin, against his will, rode Stanza while Pox and Qurl took up the rear. The Roo-Tan men complained loudly, but Hilt barked them into silence. He had always planned a stop at the Mage School. The fact that he had wounded men just meant he was less diplomatic about making them go.

While they went, Hilt caught Justan up on more of the details of the days he had missed. When Justan hadn’t woken the morning of their second day in the forest, Yntri had calmed them all by telling them what Justan was doing. They had tied him down on Stanza’s back as they traveled, expecting him to wake at any moment.

Two days had gone by without any sign of the basilisk threat. Then on the fourth day Yntri had shot a basilisk that had disguised itself as a rotting stump. Hilt had sliced the beast in pieces before it could recover. That night, while Yntri was in one of his rare moments of sleep, they had been attacked by two of the creatures. Luckily, Qurl had seen the two piles of leaves moving and raised the alarm before it was too late. Hilt killed one of them but the other escaped.

The next night, two basilisks had attacked again. This time, one charged at them in the shape of a bear while the other had snuck up from the rear. This was the one that had snagged Justan’s hand before Jhonate stopped it. They killed one of those basilisks as well. Then they had escaped the forest and headed around the outskirts of Sampo knowing that six basilisks were dead.

“That was before you killed three more last night,” Justan said.

“Yep,” said Hilt as he carried the front end of the stretcher. “There is just one basilisk and the nightbeast remaining.”

“Do you think there’s a chance it’ll give up at this point?” Justan asked. “It obviously can’t win.”

“Can’t it? All it has to do is kill you.” Hilt shook his head. “If you foil a basilisk attack you’re usually fine because they are so expensive to hire. Whoever’s after you likely won’t be able to buy another one. But a nightbeast isn’t so easy to dissuade.

“Now we might get lucky and it might go back to Malaroo to recruit more basilisks. That would give us a bit of a reprieve. But sooner or later you’re probably going to have to face it.”

“Are you alright, Sir Edge?” asked Aldie. The student was lying with his head towards Hilt’s back and he was looking directly at Justan, Peace still clutched in his hands. “You look pained.”

Aldie wasn’t wrong. Justan’s wounded hand was on fire and his shoulders ached from carrying his end of the stretcher, but that wasn’t his problem. “I’m fine, Aldie. I was just thinking that this has to be the worst pre-wedding trip ever.”

Hilt laughed and Aldie managed a pale smile. “It would probably be better if you didn’t have to carry me while you were at it.”

“Not at all. That’s a highlight,” Justan replied. “I can look at you and think, ‘Well at least I didn’t have the hand of a two thousand year old elf in my guts this morning’.”

Justan
, came Fist’s voice through the bond.
We’re on our way. Mistress Sherl rounded up a bunch of healers. Probably more than you need, but we’re coming. And we’re moving quick!

Thanks
, Justan said.
I have so much to tell you. I look forward to seeing you soon
.

Please, tell me what’s going on
, the ogre asked and Justan sensed his impatience as he rode some sort of monstrous wagon. He had nothing to do but worry until he got there.

Alright
, Justan said. The closer Fist came, the less concentration it required for them to communicate. He would be able to converse while walking.
But say nothing of what I tell you to my mother. If she knew what was going on, she’d try to keep me from going to Malaroo
.

It’s that bad
? Fist asked and Justan felt guilt coming from him.

It’s not your fault,
he replied.
If you were here with me these things would still be happening. I have a monster of legend stalking me
.