Ring of the Or'tux, page 6
Imagined enemies were behind every bush. All thoughts of trying to move silently steadily gave way to the overriding fear that was taking away his reason. He had to get away! Every step was one more step away from the deadly arrows. Every step was another step away from meeting the same fate as the man who failed to emerge from the river. So intent was he on getting away, so overwhelming was his fear, that he failed to hear the sound of men converging on his position.
When the voice shouted, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw four men racing through the darkened woods after him. Panic seized him and he ran for his life. Dodging around trees and through bushes that left red lines of pain along his skin, he fled.
Behind him, the man called out again, most likely ordering him to stop. But so consuming was the fear he felt that all the man’s cries did was fuel the panic which held him. Glancing back over his shoulder again, he saw the four men hot on his trail. Then as he turned back to continue his flight, a partially exposed root snagged his foot causing him to fall head first into the trunk of a rather large and sturdy tree. With a crack, the lights went out.
In between the trunks of fallen trees, two men hid. Around them they could hear the sound of movement throughout the forest. Voices called to each other indicating that the hunt was still on.
Where the stranger was Father Thomas hadn’t a clue. Alone with Ogger, he sent his prayers silently up to Casdralla. One for Lurri who had fallen before they made it to the river, impaled by two arrows. Another for Kyle who had entered the river with them but hadn’t emerged. His hopes of seeing him again were slim. Lastly, he prayed that the stranger would escape the enemy and be able to affect the release of his people.
“I think they may be moving off,” Ogger whispered, intruding upon the priest’s silent prayers.
Father Thomas brought his prayers to a quick close and then listened. It took but a moment for him to agree that it sounded as if those searching for them were beginning to move away.
“What should we do Father?” the old man asked.
“I…I do not know,” he replied. Then, “We must still search for the stranger and hope he has not yet been captured.”
Ogger peered over the fallen trunks and could see the light from the searcher’s torches moving away through the trees. “Do you even know where we are?” he asked.
Father Thomas shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I am so turned around I couldn’t even tell you which way the river lay.”
Pointing off to their right, Ogger said, “The river’s that way.”
As Ogger stood, Father Thomas came to his feet as well. “The stranger has to still be on the other side,” he stated. Glancing to the old man, he added, “We are going to have to make our way back across.”
“I thought you might think that,” replied Ogger. Off to their left the light from the searchers’ torches was now all but obscured by the trees and bushes of the forest. “At least they’re moving away from the river.”
Emerging from their hiding place they began working their way back toward the river. Straining every step of the way for the sound of another’s approach, they safely reached the bank of the river. Above, the moonlight filtering through the forest canopy gave the flowing water and the area adjacent to it an ominous feel. Their imaginations turned shadows into attackers which did little to assuage their fear.
They found the river to be narrower than the place where they had crossed earlier. Much too deep for them to safely make it across in the dark. Ogger pointed upriver and said, “I think we crossed further that way.”
“Very well,” agreed Father Thomas. “Let us hurry.”
Moving out, Ogger took the lead. Clutched in his hand was a thick section of limb that he came across while hiding. Though not very affective against bows or swords, it at least bolstered his courage and allayed somewhat the fear he was feeling.
They kept to the riverbank while working their way upstream to find a suitable place to ford. In the forest all around them on both sides of the river, lights were seen moving through the forest as the enemy continued their hunt. Father Thomas sent another prayer to his goddess that they would be able to avoid the searchers and find the stranger. If his people were to have any chance at all, he had to find that stranger.
Across the river to their right, one of the lights of the searchers began to grow brighter. Another minute of observing the light revealed that they were paralleling their course while at the same time edging closer to the river. Ogger brought them to a halt.
“Should we return downriver?” he asked.
Father Thomas gazed to the approaching light. It had now come close enough that individual soldiers could be seen moving through the trees. There looked to be about six.
When he didn’t receive an answer, Ogger said, “They may be looking to cross as well.”
Closing his eyes, Father Thomas prayed for guidance.
One of the Qyaendri watching over Father Thomas took possession of the prayer and in the blink of an eye brought it to the High Temple. Moving through the throng of Qyaendri upon similar business he made his way to the Chamber of Decision. This was where each prayer was brought and considered by Qyaendri whose experiences allowed them to make decisions according to their goddess’ wishes.
Immediately Father Thomas’ prayer was taken and considered. The Qyaendri who had brought it waited only a second before the decision was given. Knowing what he had to do, the Qyaendri returned to Father Thomas. All of this was done in the span of three heartbeats.
As so many times before, he felt a calming come over him, a sensation he took to mean his prayer had been answered. The calmness seemed to flow toward him from downriver. Opening his eyes he turned to Ogger and said, “Downriver.”
“Are you certain?” Ogger asked.
Nodding, the priest replied. “Absolutely. But we must hurry.” Accompanying the sense to head downriver had been the feeling that time was running out. With Ogger once more in the lead, they hurried south.
Twice more feelings of calmness came over him, and each time he felt the need to alter course. Finally, they reached an area of the river which was wider than most. Ogger glanced to Father Thomas questioningly on whether to cross or not. When he received an affirmative response, began crossing to the other side.
Torchlight was seen sporadically off in the forest on either side of the river. They hurried across and then Father Thomas directed them to continue south.
“But that’s the way the main force of the enemy lies,” argued Ogger.
“Nevertheless,” countered Father Thomas, “that is the way we must go.”
Ogger saw the absolute certainty in his eyes and nodded. Grumbling to himself, he turned and began heading south, still clutching the foot and a half stout section of limb.
They traversed the forested bank of the river for a quarter mile before lights finally appeared out of the darkness ahead. Ogger brought them to a stop and turned back to Father Thomas. “I don’t think it would be wise for us to go any further,” he warned.
“Our Lady has guided our steps this far,” he replied. Remaining motionless, he waited for the calmness to settle over him and show him the way to go. But this time, the calmness didn’t come.
Offering a prayer of guidance, he again waited. And again, direction from above failed to materialize. Opening his eyes, he turned a worried expression toward the old man. “I…” he began then saw forms appear out of the darkness to the south.
“Run!” Ogger yelled and propelled the priest back the way they had come.
Father Thomas stumbled at first then managed to get his balance and fled. Behind them came shouts from their enemy indicating they had been found. Ogger let out a cry of pain as he hit the ground. Father Thomas glanced back for only a second to see the old man crashing to the ground. The shaft of an arrow was imbedded in his thigh.
“Go!” Ogger yelled as he regained his feet. Raising the stout limb, he turned to face the oncoming soldiers. “Damned Ullentites!” he shouted. “Raze my village will you!” Glancing over his shoulder he saw Father Thomas standing there. “Get out of here Father!” Then flashing him a grin, he turned back to face the soldiers.
“May our Lady protect you my son,” Father Thomas prayed as he turned and raced away. He didn’t make it very far before he heard Ogger shouting obscenities at the Ullentites. His tirade lasted only a short spell before being silenced.
Father Thomas paused only a fraction of a second before hearing soldiers approaching from where the direction Ogger had made his stand. Fear for himself now overrode every feeling he had. Raising the hem of his robe, he redoubled his speed. For a brief moment he entertained the fantasy that he might actually be able to pull away and escape, but motion in the forest ahead of him quickly dispelled that illusion.
“Stop right there!” a soldier commanded.
Two men held bows while another ten moved to encircle him.
Father Thomas came to a stop and frantically looked for a way out. As he offered a prayer beseeching Casdralla’s aid, he was struck in the back of the head and rendered unconscious.
Chapter 5
Father Thomas regained consciousness just as they were entering the soldiers’ camp. Two men carried him, one man had him by the shoulders while the other gripped his ankles.
“Put him with the others,” he heard one say.
This close, he could easily tell the men carrying him were from Ullen, the kingdom bordering Casdra to the south. It was as Ogger had told him upon his return from the High Temple. At the thought of Ogger, he looked around for the old man but failed to find him. Fearing the worst, Father Thomas prayed.
The soldier carrying him by the ankles noticed that he had come around and informed a man in a sharp looking uniform who quickly came to his side. By the cut of his uniform and air of command, he had to be a high ranking officer of the Ullen Army.
Before the officer spoke, Father Thomas heard people crying and sobbing. Glancing in the direction to which he was being carried, he saw where his people had been gathered together. A ring of soldiers stood guard around them, every one in two held a bow.
“Are you one of those priests of Casdralla?” the officer asked.
Father Thomas turned pain filled eyes toward the officer. “Why have you done this?” he asked, ignoring the officer’s question. “We are a peaceful people.”
Placing a hand on the man leading the pair carrying him, the officer brought them to a stop. “He can walk from here,” he told the two soldiers.
As the man at his feet lowered them to the ground, the officer said, “I don’t like it when my questions go unanswered.”
With the back of his head feeling as if it was going to crack open, Father Thomas stood and turned toward the officer. “Yes,” he replied. “I am Father Thomas, one of the holy ordained Priests of Casdralla.”
Nodding, the officer replied, “I thought so.”
“What is your intention in regard to my people?” he asked.
“Don’t worry priest,” the officer said, “we have no intention of harming them. In fact, your welfare is our greatest concern.” The way he said ‘priest’ spoke volumes about the contempt he held for him.
His people began taking notice of his arrival, many crying out to him. As he and his captors reached the circle of soldiers standing guard around the captives, the officer pushed him through to his people while at the same time saying, “Unhealthy and broken people make poor slaves.”
Stumbling through the ring of guards, he joined the people he had intended to save. They sat on the ground with hands tied behind their backs. Young and old alike were similarly bound, all that was except for a few women clutching babes. Faces of despair and sadness gazed at him. The sight almost broke his heart right there. People he had known for years, some having dedicated to the goddess at their births, looked to him for some glimmer of hope.
All he could say was, “Casdralla is with us. We are not alone in this.” But words that had once held such comfort sounded hollow even as he spoke them. How could the Lady allow such peril to visit her people?
Then hands suddenly gripped him and his arms were pulled behind him. A coarse length of rope was tied tightly about his wrists. Struggle as he might, there was no preventing his hands from being bound.
Once they were secured, Father Thomas was shoved forward roughly to the ground amidst cruel laughter. Those of his people near him looked on in shock at the way he was being mistreated. Having for so long been a man of authority to them, to have him treated so ignobly brought home their situation more than anything else. None dared move to help him as he worked to bring himself upright.
Lady, Father Thomas beseeched his goddess, come to the aid of your people!
His prayer left him but was not taken by a Qyaendri. For Casdralla’s Qyaendri were being barred from entering the enemy’s camp. A ring of Qyaendri serving the god Theroch whom the Ullentites worshiped stood in their way.
It was one of the rules by which Qyaendri abide that held them at bay. Since the worshipers of Theroch held the greater numbers within the camp, Casdralla’s Qyaendri were technically forbidden from entering. To do so would be tantamount to starting a war between the two gods and none would dare do so without direct instructions from a higher authority.
Under normal circumstances this rule was flagrantly disregarded by all Qyaendri and incursions by rival Qyaendri were often overlooked as they all did it. When their god’s worshippers needed them, they were there no matter where they may be. The only time this rule was enforced was when a rival god’s Qyaendri make it a point to enforce it, such as now.
Theroch’s Qyaendri keeping them out were not the run of the mill Qyaendri either, but rather those dedicated to the enforcement of their god’s will, especially against other Qyaendri. Practiced in the art of celestial war, these Qyaendri were capable of destroying other Qyaendri, especially those of a lesser stature.
One of Casdralla’s Qyaendri had been sent to the High Temple informing the higher ups of this new development. To the dismay of those Casdralla Qyaendris waiting impotently outside the camp, they were instructed to make no attempt to breach the ring of Theroch’s Qyaendri. In effect to stay out. Many prayers coming from the captives were fading away since there were no Qyaendri able to take charge of them. A prayer left to itself only lasts a short time before fading away into nothingness.
“Father.”
Father Thomas had been sitting with eyes closed and head hanging down for some time. Mind all but numb by the recent events, he had been wallowing in a pit of self-deprecation.
He had been so sure the stranger was going to rescue his people. Now, the stranger was who knew where, he himself had been captured, and those who had set out with him and the stranger from Billin were unaccounted for. He knew for certain that Lurri was dead and was fairly sure Ogger and Kyle had met the same fate. The fact that Ogger hadn’t been placed with the rest of the captives seemed to indicate he hadn’t survived his encounter with the enemy soldiers.
“Father.”
Raising his head, he opened his eyes and looked upon his people. Fear and uncertainty marred many visage, but there was a spark of hope and concern mixed in there as well. Now that he was with them, things didn’t seem as bad as they had been.
From one to the next, his gaze passed over them, noting who was there and who was not. Having them depending on him for emotional support if nothing else, he mustered a reassuring grin. “Casdralla will save us,” he told them. “Our Lady will not abandon her people to such a fate.”
Such was the tone of belief he put into his words, that many faces once laced with fear, grew calmer. A kernel of hope entered many a heart as he smiled, a smile he himself did not entirely feel.
The enemy camp was still active as men came and went. It wasn’t long before he saw a group of soldiers emerge from the woods carrying a limp body. Father Thomas’ eyes widened and his heart practically stopped in mid beat when he realized the stranger had been made captive as well. He was certain it was the stranger they carried by the clothes the man wore.
Unconscious, the stranger was being taken toward a cluster of five tents. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but from the way they were acting, Father Thomas realized the enemy considered the stranger of special importance. Considering the strange attire he wore, he could well understand why they did.
As the stranger disappeared inside one of the tents, Father Thomas offered up another prayer to his goddess.
Ftheril stood amongst the Qyaendri ringing the camp. He had watched the party as they left Billin, and the subsequent chase through the forest. Ftheril knew the importance of the stranger Larus had selected to save Casdralla’s people on this world, and he was surprised at the relative ease in which Larus’ Chosen One had been captured.
Now to discover that the stranger had been removed to a place he could not follow, and that was guarded by the Celestial Warriors of Theroch, gave him grave concerns. Rarely do opposing Qyaendri stand in the way of other Qyaendri who were gathering prayers. For those Qyaendri who block others’ prayers, tended to have their followers’ prayers blocked in retaliation. Such situations often degenerated into all out war between the two sides before becoming resolved.
He grew worried when no Celestial Warriors of Casdralla came and joined those in attendance among her Qyaendri outside the camp. That, coupled with the fact the stranger was in the hands of those who had attacked their people, prompted Ftheril to seek out Daeson. Something did not feel right.
Needless to say, when he found Daeson and informed him of all that had happened, Daeson was less than happy. Anger smoldered within him, and for one of the Celestial Warriors, that was a fearsome sight. Ftheril was glad the Qyaendri’s anger was not directed at him.
