A Forest of Vanity and Valour, page 11
The scribe continues to write my words as I dictate a few more niceties rather than the bile I force myself not to spew. When the scribe is finished, I take the quill and sign the bottom of the letter. The scribe blows on the ink for a moment, then places it in an envelope and pours wax over the overlap, pressing it down with the family crest.
“Get that to the messenger right away,” I say. The scribe bows his head and leaves, and I sit down at the desk to gather my thoughts.
There is a firm, brisk knock at the door. It startles me.
“Come in,” I sigh at my moment of silence being disturbed.
Codrin enters, his frame filling the doorway. “Sire, I have news.”
“Go on?”
“Lord Vek’s caravan was ambushed on the way to Entaria. The reports say three men caught them unaware, ambushing them from inside the Forest of Opiya.”
“Vireo,” I growl. “When did this happen?” And how on earth have they survived this long?
“Six days ago, sire. Lord Vek sent word as soon as he arrived in Entaria. By all accounts he is furious. What would you have me do?” Codrin stands well over six feet tall and towers over me. The man looks like a mountain compared to me, and I find that being overshadowed in such a way makes me feel uneasy.
“None of our men will step foot in that place. It is a death wish. No one can survive in that wretched place for long.” I cannot afford to waste my guards. I do not have the manpower to hunt him down. “For the time being, we will have to wait. Alert the guards and circulate the bounty for Vireo and his men around Levanthria. I want the reward known to every city and town. Five hundred crowns for his head. Two hundred for those who aid him.”
“There’s more, sire. Our scout’s report that Jordell was last seen heading to the Forest of Opiya himself. It seems he may have set up camp there with Vireo.” Codrin's face is stern and unmoving, showing no emotion as he gives his report.
“So it seems.” I wave Codrin away as I muse over my thoughts. Had they been planning this all along, or is this simply the hand that fate has given us?
“It is meant to be this way,” a familiar voice only I can hear hisses in my mind.
34
Vireo
It takes a powerful person to master magic. It takes an even stronger person to wean yourself from its grasp. To stop the power coursing through your veins even when your body craves it; that is true strength.
-Zaphire Etsom, alchemist, Temple Of Eltera 254 KR
Laith, Gillam, and I are perched on logs around the fire while Jordell prepares ingredients for stew, and the warmth of the flames press against my legs. It is proving beneficial to have Jordell around camp – as it turns out, Jordell is as skilled a cook as he is an alchemist. It may not be to the standards we are accustomed to, but there can be no denying that since he took over preparing our food, it has improved in taste.
Laith, too, seems keen to prove himself, more so to Gillam than me. When he isn’t doing supply runs, he trains with her, even adapting his sword stance to incorporate Gillam’s style and speed. All he asks for in exchange is that any leftover coin be shared with the people of Askela.
Lek, Gillam, and I take turns with watch duty so that Jordell can focus on transcribing the spell book. Other than the odd small creature passing through, we remain undisturbed by the larger beasts that we believe roam this enchanted forest.
“Is that really how you three met?” Laith asks, smiling with delight. Gillam has just finished regaling him with stories of our past.
“I swear it is true.” Gillam raises the bottle in her hand and takes a swig of the sweet wine before passing it across the fire to Laith. “Have I told you about the time we caught Lek in a compromising position with a pig?”
“If you value your life, Gillam, I suggest you end this story here,” Lek calls from the edge of camp where he has taken up watch.
Laith fights to stop himself from spitting his wine into the fire. “Now you must me.”
Gillam lowers her voice. “Let’s just say that Lek went into a barn with a woman he had met in a town just north of Eltera. The ale flowed, and both were more than merry as they went about to have at it. Unfortunately for Lek, his company had passed out, and being in such a drunken stupor, it was not her that his hands were wandering over.”
“Not that there was much difference between the pig and his company,” I add.
The three off us try and suppress our laughs into a snigger so that Lek does not hear us.
“I dread to think where that would have ended up had we not intervened,” says Gillam. She takes the bottle from Laith and finishes it off before casting it into the trees.
“I have so many more stories about that oaf,” she continues, beaming. The flames of the fire catch her eyes in the moment. It is rare for Gillam to let her hair down in this manner. Normally her style is to get blind drunk, find a man or woman to have her way with, and then leave. To see her laughing and telling tales of old is quite refreshing to see, and I smile. “Even more about this one.” She turns the attention onto me.
“And I would say that’s enough stories for one evening,” I chuckle, stopping her in her tracks – no need to diminish Laith’s opinion of me just yet. The woman knows far too much about me and the compromising positions I have been found in over the years.
Suddenly, something flies through the air and smashes into the side of Gillam’s head. It is the wine bottle she tossed into the trees only moments before.
I leap to my feet. Blood oozes from a cut to the left of her hairline and begins to drip down her face. Her smile is immediately replaced with contorted anger.
“What the fuck was that for, Lek?”
I open my mouth to tell her I’m fairly certain Lek isn’t the perpetrator, but before I can get the words out, something large stomps into camp.
“OGRE!” Lek bellows. Its frame stands a good foot or two taller than even Lek. Its large, thickened head has two protruding teeth from the bottom of its mouth. It only has one eye; a sunken hole has replaced the other, and a clawed scar shows how the beast came to lose it. The ogre is bare-chested, revealing protruding bones from its body. Its skin has somehow healed around the bones, forming ivory spikes. In its hand it clutches a log, which it swings as Lek approaches.
Lek ducks and brandishes his great axe, making to bring a swift end to the creature. Ogres are not easy to slay – their skin is renowned for its thickness – but I can’t see how a blow from Lek’s axe wouldn’t be able to penetrate its skin.
He doesn’t have the chance to land a blow, however, because the ogre grabs his axe with his free hand, jarring Lek to a halt. Lek tries to wrestle the axe from the monster, but the ogre’s strength far surpasses his own. The ogre draws Lek into the air, bringing his face level with its one eye. With an almighty battle roar, it hurtles him towards us as if he weighs nothing. Embers spray us as Lek rolls through the fire before sliding to a halt, groaning in pain. Laith, Gillam, and I stand dumbfounded at what we have just seen.
Jordell lets the vegetables scatter to the ground as he hurries to our side, a kitchen knife in his hand. My mind races as I try to think of the best way to fell this creature. A kitchen knife certainly isn’t going to do it.
“What do we do now?” Laith grips his blade in both hands, his voice trembling with adrenaline. I am impressed that in the face of such danger, he doesn’t consider running.
“We pray to the gods,” Jordell answers.
“Is there any magic you can use?” Gillam asks.
“As much as I want to, I can’t. If I overuse it, the burden on my body will be too much.”
The ogre growls, casting its eyes on us.
“Well, we won’t be around much longer if you don’t!” Gillam shouts.
I squeeze the hilt of my blade. Within seconds, the ogre is on us. It brings its snarling rage down us with a blow from the tree trunk in its hand. I dive to the side, barely dodging the bludgeon. The ground rumbles as the enormous weapon hits the ground, spraying earth everywhere.
I glance towards the others. Jordell is sprawled out in the dirt and Laith looks determined but unscathed. As Gillam attempts to stand, the ogre cuffs her with the back of its hand, which sends her my way. I break her fall, but we both land in a crumpled heap as Gillam gasps for air, her face a bloodied mess from the gash on her head.
“Sprightly, isn’t it?” She scoops up her dagger and runs straight for the ogre, and before the beast can react, she rams her blade into its leg. A low rumble escapes the ogre before it slaps Gillam down to the ground again. She has done her bit, though, and her dagger protrudes from the beast’s leg, blood flowing from the new wound.
The ogre uses its free hand to remove the blade and then pitches it at me. It soars towards me at a frightening pace, but bounces in front of me as if it has hit a wall. Jordell has somehow deflected it with a spell, removing the weapon’s momentum.
“I thought you couldn’t cast,” I say, though I’m grateful; the mage just saved my life.
“A deflection spell doesn’t use up too much energy. I should be ok.”
The ogre attempts to step on Gillam, who is struggling on the ground beside it. Lek shoots his hand out and grabs her by the ankle, dragging Gillam helplessly through the dirt.
“What do we do?” Laith shouts. He maintains his offensive stance, ready to strike.
There is crashing in the trees behind the ogre and I dread what else is about to greet us.
I don’t see any other choice. “Run!” I command the others. There’s no way we can take on a second one.
But it isn’t another ogre.
Growls fill the air as a pack of wolfaires surround us. Their matted fur stands on edge and they emit an aggressive rumble, preparing for a fight. I count at least eight as they begin to circle the ogre, led by the familiar black alpha. He produces a prolonged growl which transforms into a snarl as he bares its teeth at the ogre, snapping at its legs. The ogre weighs up the situation, and growls back itself before turning and heading into the trees.
The alpha turns to face me and bows his head. I stare into his eyes, frozen in place by a mixture of fear and wonder. Then he raises his head to the moon above and releases an eery howl. The other wolfaires follow suit and bay into the night sky.
Then they dart back into the woods.
This is the second time the wolfaire has protected us. My only question now is – why?
35
Vireo
The day after the encounter with the ogre, Laith leaves on a supply run, and we hang back in camp, a quiet anxiety having taken hold. The attack was a reminder of how dangerous the forest really is. Soon, we may have to make a decision: continue to live at the mercy of the monsters within the forest – or put ourselves at the mercy of the monsters in the city.
I can’t decide which sounds worse.
Jordell is finishing off some food for us all. The rich smell worsens my hunger pains as the stew bubbles in a pot over the fire. He seems to have recovered from the wounds he sustained during his escape from Askela, but the limp remains.
The alchemist ladles some of the stew into Lek’s outstretched bowl, and Lek carries it with him to the edge of camp where he takes up position for his watch.
“Here you go.” Jordell passes me a dish. It smells divine – and if it smells good, it tastes even better. My senses go into overload as I take in the broth. I am not sure if it’s Jordell’s cooking or my hunger, but the stew rivals anything Choa would have made for me at home. I wonder whatever happened to my cook. Or my estate, for that matter.
Gillam sits quietly. Her hair sticks to her cheek from congealed blood. She hasn’t said a word to me since the ogre attack, but at least she engages with the others.
She cannot stay mad at me forever.
Jordell passes Gillam some stew and eyes her appearance. “We really need to get that sorted,” he says, his face full of concern.
“Is there not a spell you can use and be done with it?” She asks.
“I am afraid I must conserve my energy for when the time calls. For now, it is nothing that a needle and some thread can’t fix.” Jordell examines the deep cut through Gillam’s blood-encrusted hair. “Let me clean it, before it becomes infected,” he says.
“I’ll be fine with some food and some wine,” Gillam mutters, bringing the bowl to her mouth and slurping loudly. She winces in the process. “Good thing those wolfaires showed up when they did.”
Jordell sighs, but says nothing more of her wound. “I have never seen or heard of anything like that before,” he says instead, seating himself on Lek’s vacated log. “Wild wolfaires protecting men against a monster of the forest? The gods must be playing games with us.”
“It is not the first time we have crossed paths with them,” I explain. “In fact, the last time we saw the alpha, he stopped the pack from tearing us from limb to limb.”
“How strange, that such a creature would show such protective instincts to the group.” Jordell sips his stew and closes his eyes.
“It’s no coincidence,” says Gillam. “That alpha has turned up and protected us ever since that day you rescued it from that snare.”
“What did you say?” Jordell asks a bit sharply. I frown, wondering if there is really any truth to that.
“Vireo saved that alpha when we were out hunting, before all of this happened.”
“That’s very interesting.” Jordell seems lost in thought for a moment. “It would appear that your act of kindness has borne fruit.”
“So it would appear,” I say, finishing my stew. It’s not the first time I have wondered this myself. Has the wolfaire been keeping these creatures at bay all this time?
Then I hear the steady sound of horse hoofs hitting the forest floor. Within a moment, Laith returns, and he is a welcome sight; with our stores running low, we need all the supplies we can get. I smile in his direction, but then I see his face. He wears an expression of concern and sorrow.
“Is everything ok, Laith?” Jordell gets up and takes the reins, steadying the steed as the boy dismounts.
“I am afraid there’s not much supplies from this run,” he says. “Askela is not in a good state.”
“What do you mean?” Jordell asks before I have time to pose the same question.
“I mean, that coward of a leader has led the city into an even worse state than it was already in.” Laith removes the parcels that lay over the back of his horse. “The people of Askela are starving, Jordell. Jareb is bleeding them dry. No one has much to trade. Worse still, he is still sending those who cannot pay to the dungeons. What I have been able to fetch will only last us one or two days. I must head straight back out. Vireo, may I take some more coin?”
Previously, the woes of the poor would not have affected me. I avert my eyes, because we all know that the hardships people are facing is partly due to my own actions. Furthermore, we cannot survive for much longer like this.
“We need to make this camp more sustainable, if we are to survive,” I say, thinking out loud.
Without warning, Laith rushes at me and pushes me backwards with a good amount of force. I barely manage to plant my feet and prevent myself from toppling over.
“I tell you what is going on in Askela, and this is how you respond? You care only for yourself,” he spits. His fury catches me off guard.
Gillam jumps into the fray and wraps her hands around the boy. “Calm down,” she scolds, “you will draw more creatures out to us.”
“What’s going on over there?” Lek calls.
“Just Vireo getting his arse handed to him by Laith,” Gillam chortles.
“I understand your frustrations, boy,” I tell him, and I mean it. “Think of it this way: if we are dead, then no one will help the people of Askela.”
“And how do you propose we help them, Vireo?” Jordell asks me. He is clearly concerned for the people whom, under normal circumstances, he would be tending to.
“As I said before the boy lost his head, we need to make this camp more sustainable.”
“We need seeds to sow our own food,” Jordell says, catching on. “Make this a more permanent setting for us.”
“The fewer times we travel into Askela, the better. There is a bounty on all our heads except Laith’s,” I remind the group.
“Maybe it’s a bounty worth cashing in. I can then give that coin to people who need it more than us,” Laith says, glaring at me with disgust.
Gillam strikes him, and the boy falls to the ground. “Gather yourself, Laith. You need to get a grip on that temper of yours. You will get us all killed at this rate. Or get yourself killed.” I see Gillam’s threat as genuine. It is not as though she has been waiting for an excuse to kill someone. Laith spits blood from his mouth.
Jordell furrows his brows. “The Great Temple will no doubt be ransacked by Jareb’s men looking for anything that can be used in their mission to unlock magic. However, there is a chance that some of my effects may still be in my study.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like the seeds of plants and vegetables that we will need if we are, in fact, to make this place more sustainable. I have a great collection which I store in part of the library, sealed away. I can’t see them taking seeds, as they would prove relatively useless unless concocting healing potions. What’s more, I am in dire need of some items to clean up that nasty gash on Gillam’s head. It will soon be infected if it is not properly cleaned and sealed,” Jordell finishes.
“Then we have a plan. We just need to think about how we get into the city,” I say.
“I will go!” The boy proclaims.
