The Forgotten Stone, page 4
The wagon blocked Canukke and the stranger from the fight, but the stranger had an arrow notched and let fly, narrowly missing Oloren. The zegrath rolled off him to avoid the arrow, dumping Gabor to the ground and revealing frightening foresight and far more intelligence than other beasts. The creature lunged at the stranger, using the wagon as a launching pad. Enouim dove out of the wagon just in time, almost rolling to her feet before losing her footing and sliding down a steep forest drop-off, heart lurching into her throat. She grabbed a small rotting stump to keep from falling the rest of the way and hung there, feet swinging in the air below her.
The stranger sidestepped and reared his horse, but with a guttural protest, the zegrath cut through his horse’s leather saddle and girth. The horse let out a cry and shied away, the stranger leaping from its back before the tack on which he sat crashed to the ground. Vadik had gotten the wagon horse to strain forward again, but the beast’s large furry body blocked the passage, stopping his further efforts cold. Oloren and Pakel took hold of Enouim’s arms and swung her back to safety.
Canukke slung his broadsword along the beast’s side yet again, and the stranger swung his sword, backing the creature against the wagon. Gabor, trapped on the wrong side of the wagon, climbed up the supplies to position himself over the zegrath. Vadik did his best to hold the horse steady, but fear overtook it. The horse pulled with all its might, but one of the wheels stuck in a rut behind a large root. Harness still partially attached, the horse broke from the wagon, skirted the two warriors, and galloped down the trail. Vadik abandoned the wagon and landed to his left, while Gabor pitched forward, fell on the zegrath, tumbled off, and rolled to his feet.
Dark, beady eyes gleamed in the night, and a flash of teeth created a stark contrast against the blackness of the forest. The short quills leading from the zegrath’s head to the top of its shoulders—where Oloren’s throwing knife still stood—stood on end. Its two large, pointed ears drew back away from its sinister face, while the two smaller ones just below them swiveled independently, ensuring the animal missed no audible signals from any direction. Its head hung low, and it crouched in a motionless standoff. For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then two snarls emitted into the night. It was difficult to say which came from Canukke and which from the beast as they flew toward one another. Dark fur and claws blended with Canukke’s form. Canukke—sword in one hand, knife in the other—threatened the animal’s throat with his knife, but the zegrath grabbed the blade with its teeth and tossed the knife aside in frenzied indignation, then it lunged for Canukke’s throat. He tucked, rolled, and came to his feet, sword still somehow in hand. The stranger, Gabor, and Vadik joined him and cornered the beast between the forest wall and the broken-down wagon.
Pakel notched another arrow and waited for a good opportunity. Enouim stood with dagger extended, willing but rather unsure of herself. Oloren seemed frustrated to have been separated from the fight and appeared to be considering her options to rejoin it. Gabor lunged forward with his dagger, slashing at the beast as the zegrath pushed off the wagon and leaped in a high arc toward the other side. Seeing her chance, Oloren jumped onto the back of the wagon and, with a savage cry, reached up and sliced the vulnerable underbelly. Canukke climbed the wagon and several exposed tree roots in the forest wall, then crashed down on the creature from above to finish the job. Oloren had struck the fatal blow, but Canukke brought his sword plummeting down on the animal’s neck for good measure.
“Get it off the path,” the stranger commanded. “The tribes come this far, and this route is supposed to be abandoned. Gabor, get the provisions.”
“We may already have drawn attention to ourselves,” Vadik said.
While Canukke, the stranger, Pakel, and Oloren worked together to push the carcass off the ledge, Gabor directed Vadik and Enouim to assist him in salvaging as much of the provisions as they could. The zegrath’s talons had ripped open several of the bags carrying weapons, food, or valuables brought as gifts to the cliff dwellers, and there was only so much room on the horses. Gabor called out instructions as they loaded the saddle bags with as much as they could carry, double-checking their work as they went.
A twig snapped from above. Enouim whipped her head up toward the ledge from which the zegrath had come and froze. A tribesman scout stood on the ledge, arrow on his bow string, aimed directly at Enouim’s chest.
5
Enouim ducked and squealed just as an arrow and a knife embedded themselves in the tribesman’s chest at the same time. Gabor and Oloren had each dispatched their weapon of choice at once, and Gabor’s arrow and Oloren’s knife hit the target a single inch apart from one another. The tribesman fell backward and out of sight without a sound. Shouts rang out from beyond the dead man.
“Go!” Canukke shouted, all hope for secrecy lost.
“The supplies!” Gabor exclaimed, unwilling to abandon his task.
“Leave the rest! We’ll make do with what we have!”
All mounted their horses, Enouim jumping up behind Pakel. Vadik had been riding on the wagon, so he reached for Oloren’s horse next to him. “Move back!” he called up to her, claiming the driver’s seat.
“You move back! My horse, my rules. Let’s go!”
Vadik reluctantly swung up behind her and they set off in haste. More calls and sounds of movement came from other tribesmen out of sight. The seven of them swept along the passage on horseback, relieved to find the trail open up as they continued down the mountain. Vadik shouted to Oloren when he saw that his cart horse had stopped in a grassy area. The rest of the group surrounded and herded the bay while Oloren brought her horse alongside, and Vadik transferred to his own horse without slowing the pace.
An arrow struck a tree a hair beyond Vadik’s nose. They altered course, crashing through the brush, rode into a clearing on the other side, and bolted into cover on the far end. Whizz, whizz. More arrows. The ground leveled off, and Enouim glanced behind, arms squeezing tight around Pakel. “Horseback archer, rear left flank!” she called out.
A mounted tribesman bore down on them from behind. He wore loose, dark clothing under a leather breastplate and gauntlets, and directed his steed solely with his legs, leaving his hands free to work a bow and arrow.
Gabor reached for his own bow and arrow and twisted in the saddle to send one toward the unwelcome pursuer. The target maneuvered just shy of its reach and loosed his own arrow, which flew so close that Gabor may have lost a few strands of hair. The stranger shot back at the tribesman, and he banked further left and out of sight. Urging their horses ever faster, they gained space and the arrows began to drop away.
Canukke bore to the right and down a winding way to a stream where they slowed and entered at a shallow place, the water just above the horses’ knees. They walked with the deepening stream until it reached halfway up the horses’ bodies, then exited and picked up speed once more. They rode on, silent, alert, and in a constant state of tension.
After a time, the company grew confident that they’d shaken their tail, and Canukke allowed a more relaxed pace. Gentle rays of morning light sifted through the branches, dispelling shadows and reminding them that day waits to dawn after every somber night. The spirits of the company lifted like a shade taken up to let the shining hope of another day illuminate and refresh them. A docile breeze wafted over Enouim’s face. Speckled pools of light played with the various tints of green in spongy moss, grass, and underbrush.
“By Glintenon, I either eat in the next ten minutes or starve,” Pakel said, breaking the silence.
“Glintenon! And how far do you think his reach carries?” Vadik replied.
They spoke of the Malak, great shape shifters charged with guarding the realms of the world. Before the Great Rift five-hundred years prior, the Malak took their natural form more often than not and walked among men as they came and went performing their duties. Malak forms were humanoid, though larger and stronger than humankind, and had the ability to shift forms or hide themselves from the visible world. After the Great Rift, the Malak were given authority over various provinces, and their presence in the world diminished.
In Gorgenbrild, that powerful Malak was named Glintenon. In the First Morthed War, Glintenon appeared in his natural form to lead the charge against Morthed, but Morthed had its own Malak, Morales. In the heat of battle, Glintenon gained for Gorgenbrild tremendous advances, but Morales emerged in the pinnacle of combat to fight him herself, transitioning from a large raven in the sky and into her natural form. All seemed lost for a moment, until Glintenon seemed to tremble, then rose from the ground. With a flash of light from the Ecyah Stone in the hilt of his sword, Glintenon defeated Morales. Morthed retreated but inflicted great losses as they did so. As a people, Morthed drifted east to settle, and were now a formidable force in what was known as the City With No Walls.
“He is the protector of our people!” Pakel replied. “We are those people. He would be remiss not to watch over us as we go.”
Vadik snorted. “Or would he be remiss to leave the rest of our homeland? We are but a few, and perhaps we will soon leave his jurisdiction behind.”
“He would pass us off to an ally then, to watch over our progress,” Oloren suggested.
“Have you ever wondered whether he is loyal?” Vadik spoke confidently, almost laissez-faire, but Enouim saw mischief subtly light his expression. Any fire worth having needed a little fuel.
“Loyal!” Oloren said, taking the bait. “Glintenon walked among us, knew us. After the Rift, we saw him little, yet he was there—he proved it in the First Morthed War! What else could he have done for us in that time, unbeknownst to you? And even since then!”
“There is plenty he didn’t do during that time. By the hordes, where was he for the Second Morthed War? Gorgenbrild saw him practically as deity after the First, and yet the Second rolls around and what, nothing? I don’t know. Perhaps he’s not to be trusted.”
“Vadik, you are loyal to your stomach and your ego,” Oloren responded dismissively, signaling exit from the conversation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Enouim saw Oloren’s frustration with Vadik’s stubbornness, but she thought she saw a hint of pleasure in Vadik’s eyes.
“Who needs Glintenon when you have me?” Canukke broke in. “Where was Glintenon when we fought the Iyangas? Where was Glintenon when Malum Khoron-khelek was born? Who was it really that guarded Gorgenbrild, fought for you, bled for you? It was me, along with Bondeg and the rest of our leaders! Indeed, if Glintenon lives, he would choose none other than myself to lead this party to restore the Ecyah Stone to its rightful place with our people. Surely he recognizes his failure as of late.” Canukke halted his horse, effectively ending the discussion. “We stop here. Pakel is right; we should eat and stretch our legs.”
Oloren pursed her lips but said nothing, and the group dismounted. Vadik freed his horse from the remainder of the wagon harness, cut some rope, and fashioned a makeshift bridle while the others pulled fruit and dried meat from the saddlebags and let the horses graze. As everyone began to settle, the stranger nodded to Enouim and introduced himself. “Kilith Urul. Looks like you’re going to be with us a while.”
The comment brought Enouim’s mind back to her troubles. Going home was now even more out of the question, and she seemed to have been grafted into the company. Unsure of herself in the new setting, she wondered what would become of her now. Would she be forced onto this mission? Had Canukke and this Kilith Urul come up with some plan to get her home eventually? He had said “a while,” after all.
Remembering to introduce herself, she nodded back at him. “Enouim.”
“I have convinced Canukke not to allow you any attempt at returning to Gorgenbrild on your own,” Kilith said. “He sees you as a liability on the mission, but you would never make it back alive, and you’re privy to our purpose.
“In roughly two weeks we will reach Kalka’an, and if they’re still planning on trading with Gorgenbrild in light of the Sumus’s encroaching position, you will likely be able to return with the traders. If not, you will have to decide where your desire lies. If you choose to continue with us on the mission from there, you may need to win over Canukke.”
Kilith seemed serious, gruff, but not unkind. Enouim found him both off-putting and comforting, a strange and confusing blend. “How do I do that?” she asked. “You know, if I decide to stay. Theoretically.”
Kilith shrugged. “Prove yourself useful somehow. Right now he sees you as a problem if you were to attempt the trek home and be caught, and a problem if you stay and muck everything up.”
Enouim nodded. “How do I decide?”
“That I cannot answer for you.” Kilith dipped his head toward her once more, and promptly walked away toward the rest of the group. He allowed himself plenty of personal space while remaining close enough to be among them. Enouim moved also, seating herself next to Oloren. Vadik, Oloren, Gabor, and Pakel were in a semi-circle, and Enouim favored the familiarity of Oloren’s friendly face. She wondered what advice Oloren or Pakel might have for her predicament and hoped she would soon get the chance to speak with one of them privately. Canukke and Kilith Urul sat together a little further off, strategizing best routes and other details in confidence, but close enough to engage in conversation with the group if they chose.
They ate quickly, making light conversation or none at all, and mounted again. Enouim, feeling as though she had been assigned to his horse since the tribesman incident, rode behind Pakel once more. As she listened to the people around her, Enouim took mental notes on her new companions, considering who she would feel safe to process with.
Gabor: detail-oriented, quiet, potentially condescending—of course, this could say more about her own insecurities than about Gabor. An excellent marksman, he loved the precision and accuracy necessary for shooting a bow and arrow. He’d said little during their brief respite, but Enouim got the feeling he was fond of most of the group—though perhaps not Vadik. He seemed intelligent and willing to speak up when he disagreed with something, as long as he considered the effort worthwhile. Enouim thought Gabor harmless enough, but it might take some time to feel comfortable around him.
Vadik was a logical strategist, outgoing and outspoken. He enjoyed lively conversations, particularly those that allowed him to flex his mental acumen against an ideological opponent, and seemed dedicated to truth. He would certainly expose any areas she failed to take into account if she shared her dilemma with him. His rational mind was good with practical advice and problem-solving, which could be valuable to her. On the other hand, he might turn it into a debate of some kind, and she wasn’t sure her thoughts were developed enough to handle that. Maybe further down the road.
Kilith Urul was a puzzle and rather unsettling. Mostly quiet, sometimes jumping in with a wry comment. Apparently prominent in his community, he lived so far on the other side of Gorgenbrild that Enouim had never seen him before. He struck her as preferring to keep to himself. Enouim imagined he would give wise counsel, but he didn’t seem particularly inclined to part with it in her case. He’d said the decision was hers and left it at that. No, that wouldn’t do.
Oloren was comforting, not only in her familiarity, but also her presence. A soft, confident air hung around her. She didn’t seem to feel the need to speak, but when she did, people listened. In jovial discussion, she often joined in with the rest of them, apparently truly in her element here and comfortable in the group. Oloren had a level head and a kind heart. Enouim would appreciate her perspective.
Canukke was a definite no. She was fairly certain he was the only one of the company that would outright refuse to let her ride with him, and she was equally set against the idea. Canukke thought Enouim an idiot and inconvenience, and she thought him obnoxious and arrogant. Unfortunately, much of her fate was in his hands.
At the same time, Enouim saw what he had to offer. Physically imposing, mentally sharp, and an accomplished hunter and fighter, he was a natural leader, could delegate and make decisions quickly, and was skilled in survival tactics. Canukke had traveled greater distances than anyone else in the troop, except perhaps Kilith. Both he and Kilith Urul had personal contacts in Kalka’an. Though somewhat unconventional at times, Canukke was clearly an asset.
Pakel seemed to have an easy ear. Straightforward, good natured, willing to talk. He enjoyed conversation and people in general, was outgoing and enthusiastic, and didn’t seem to hate her. Pakel would be a good candidate, and she was riding with him now. Perhaps today she could talk it out with Pakel, and tomorrow ride with Oloren.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Enouim said to Pakel quietly, keeping the conversation just to the two of them.
“You just did! Do you want to ask if you can ask me two things?” he replied jovially.
“Okay.” Enouim fought a smile. “So Kilith said I may end up having a choice of staying with the group or going back to Gorgenbrild with the traders once we reach Kalka’an. It helps to talk it out when I have to decide something important. I’m not sure what I should choose.”
“I’m not sure I understand. You didn’t intend to be on this mission in the first place, and were appalled to discover you had ended up so far from home. What’s to decide?”
“Well … I’m not exactly sure what’s waiting for me at home. Chayan wants her revenge, and I’m not sure what that would look like for her. She definitely wants to crush my bones, or at least break multiple important ones. She might even kill me. Everyone knows she tends to get carried away, and Deliberation lets her do it.”
