The Nightblade Epic Volume Two: A Book of Underrealm, page 8
“A fair attempt at an ambush,” said Chet without a hint of anger. “Mayhap later I can teach you wrestling to go along with your sword training.”
“It would please me greatly if you would fling yourself into the river,” said Gem through wheezing gasps.
“Enough,” said Loren. “Gem, take your staff or not, as you will. But the rest of us should carry ours, for we have no other ways to defend ourselves. Xain, can you carry yours on your own?”
“I am not so feeble as you seem to think,” snapped the wizard, glaring at her. But the weakness in his voice betrayed his words. Still, he snatched up the staff where it lay at his feet, then used it to lever himself up. He stood there, leaning heavily on the stick, looking for all the world like some wise old sorcerer from tales.
“Now he looks a proper wizard,” said Gem, grinning. Xain’s frown deepened, and he twisted his fingers. A globe of flame sprang to life and crashed into the ground by Gem’s head. The boy shrieked and rolled away.
THEY MOUNTED AND RODE ON. The brevity of their rest and the long ride since had left them all weary, but the beauty of the Birchwood in summer did much to raise their spirits and keep their wits sharp.
Fifteen autumns Loren had spent beneath these trees already, but until recently she had thought her sixteenth would pass elsewhere. When she fled south, she thought the forest had revealed all its secrets to her. Now it was as though she looked upon it with new eyes. The green leaves, the gentle brown of the branches and trunks, seemed more beautiful to her than they ever had when she dwelled there. The birdsong came more pleasant, and the rolling slopes of land seemed more gentle and inviting. Many dark months she had spent elsewhere in the nine lands, in dirty and crowded cities, along the soggy banks of the Dragon’s Tail, and in the unforgiving crags of the Greatrocks. Now, returned to her childhood home, she could see in it the beauty she had never noticed before.
Her unexpected attachment for the forest grew throughout their ride, and it remained with her when she called a stop for the night. As the next day passed much the same, she felt homesickness growing in her heart, and she remembered Chet’s pleading words. A desire grew in her to lengthen the visit to their village, as Chet wished.
She shook that thought off. That sort of thinking had kept them in Northwood for far too long, and might have brought about that town’s death. It had almost seen them all killed, and would have, if not for the sacrifice of Mag, Sten, and Albern. She owed it to their memories, and to Jordel, to press on. Once they warned the Mystics, and Jordel’s order knew of the coming danger, mayhap then she could return to the Birchwood and live in peace—or visit for a time, and then resume her journey as she had often dreamed, this time with Chet at her side.
Three days she wrestled with these musings while they passed ever farther east in the wood. Sometimes they would find rivers or streams, and then Loren would guide them along through the water for some miles in case anyone was still on their trail. But eventually that wary practice seemed less important, and they would simply cross. Soon the land sloped down again, and when the trees grew thin they could see a wide bend in the Melnar many leagues ahead.
“That loop is only a few days’ journey west of the village,” said Chet, and Loren could hear the eagerness in his voice. And now, she felt that eagerness echoing in her own heart.
Faster they spurred their horses on, for it seemed that even the children caught the mood. Only Xain remained reluctant, scowling and shivering atop Jordel’s charger. Soon they found a narrow road. It was little more than a dirt path worn by hooves and boots, but Loren thought she recognized it as the one that ran all the way to their village. At midday they stopped again to eat. Loren wanted to keep going, to ride on until she saw the familiar houses of home ahead, but that was a foolish thought. Even on the road, it would take them some days yet to reach the village.
As they sat in the underbrush beside the path, Loren felt a prickling on the back of her neck. She faltered as she ate, looking about and wondering at the feeling. Then she noticed that Chet, too, had stopped eating, and was looking off into the shadows beneath the trees.
“What is it?” said Loren, quietly.
He shook his head. Then she heard it: silence. The birds and beasts around them had fallen quiet. The only noise was the wind and the creaking of trees. Gem and Annis watched with wide eyes; Gem looked as if he would burst, but still he managed to keep his mouth shut. Xain was watching Loren, his eyes narrow.
“On the horses,” whispered Loren.
They mounted as quickly and silently as they could. Loren led them north into the trees, for she had no wish to follow the road now. She scanned all around for another river or stream. Inwardly, she cursed herself for losing her caution. If they had kept hiding their trail, mayhap they would be home free now.
They found a stream and began to ride south along it. After a time it passed under the road they had been on, where a slender wooden bridge crossed it. They did not slow, but rode beneath the bridge, ducking their heads to pass under its bottom rafters.
Still the forest around them remained silent. The babbling whisper of the stream was now a grating sound against the quiet, and she was painfully aware of how loud their horses’ hooves were. Even her pulse thundered so loud that she wondered if their pursuers could hear it.
Soon she grew frustrated. The water slowed their steps, and if the Shades were close behind, a stream would do little to deter them. She leaned over to whisper in Chet’s ear.
“We should cross the river and make for the road again. I think speed will save us now, more surely than silence will.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “That would mean turning around, mayhap into the waiting arms of those behind us.”
“Then let us cut east, and turn north if we feel it is safe.”
He shrugged and pulled on the reins. The party passed between the trees again. Still all remained too quiet. Now it was maddening.
Loren was half-ready to turn and scream into the woods, when suddenly the Shades struck.
Arrows whistled out from the trees, but none struck true. Annis screamed, and her horse reared. Gem barely stayed atop the beast.
“Ride north, and quickly!” said Loren.
They spurred their horses and fled. Loren whispered thanks for Midnight’s sure steps and quick reflexes, but she watched the children’s horse with worry. Annis was sure in the saddle, but her mount was easily frightened. Often it tried to break from the others, and Annis had to wrestle it back into line.
But it was Chet’s steed that nearly doomed them. An arrow came flying from their left and passed within a handbreadth of the beast’s nose. The horse screamed and lurched left. Chet pitched from the saddle at the sudden change in direction. He landed hard on the forest floor, and Loren’s heart stopped. But he scrambled to his feet quickly, lifting his staff. His bow lay in the dirt a few feet away—thankfully unstrung, or surely it would have snapped.
“Chet!” cried Loren. She wheeled and went to him, reaching down a hand to pull him up. But it was too late, and figures in blue and grey appeared beneath the trees.
Another volley they loosed, but all arrows went wide. Then they leaped from their saddles and attacked with swords held high.
Loren dropped from Midnight’s saddle and landed catlike beside Chet. Her hands shook, but she managed to string her bow. From the quiver at her hip she drew an arrow. With shaking hands she fitted and drew it as Albern had taught her. But still she could not aim for the heart. The shaft went wide, though it did make the Shade she aimed at dive to the side.
Then the Shades were on them with swords, and Loren snatched up her staff from the ground. Together she and Chet managed to ward off the warriors’ blows. They used the trunks to their advantage, ducking behind them and letting the Shades’ swords bounce harmlessly off the wood.
One of the blades stuck in the bark. Chet lunged forwards and slammed the butt of his staff into the man’s head. The Shade fell to the ground in a heap. But another came just behind, forcing Chet still farther back.
A high, thin scream ripped the air. Gem came running into the fray with his sword held high. Behind him came Annis, blanched with fright but still gripping her staff firmly. Gem’s wild swings proved little danger, but at least distracted one of the Shades long enough for Loren to take him unawares. She struck him first in the gut, and then on the back of the head with a sharp overhead swing. But then his companion pressed forwards, and Loren had to give ground before her.
The woman knew her way about a blade, and though Loren could keep her at bay, she could not knock the sword from her grasp. Whenever Loren lunged to strike, the sword would be there to block it.
Gem leaped to the attack. The Shade blocked his first stroke, and then delivered a powerful backhand blow. He crashed into the trunk of a tree.
“Gem!” said Loren.
Her hands loosened on the staff. With a cry the Shade kicked out, knocking it from Loren’s grip, and then she swung her sword hard. It missed Loren, barely, and she danced back out of reach. But then the Shade swung again, and this time let go the sword, which flew spinning towards Loren’s face.
She dropped on instinct and heard the blade whistle by overhead. By the time she rose to her knees, the Shade was already on top of her. Loren was borne to the ground, one arm across her throat. The Shade whipped a knife from the back of her belt. Loren barely caught the woman’s wrist in time, choking for breath as she fought to push the knife away.
Annis screamed and swung. In her panic she struck the Shade in the back, not the head. But it made the woman grunt and loosen the pressure on Loren’s throat for a moment.
Then the air rang out with a sharp crack, and a bolt of lightning from Xain struck her in the chest. Loren felt the bolt through her body, rocking her with a sharp and sudden pain.
The Shade lurched back with a cry. She reached for Loren again, but Chet had defeated his foe, and he struck Loren’s in the chest with his staff. The Shade fell to the ground. Loren flipped up and on top of her, one hand gripping the woman’s throat.
“Killing children in the woods? Is that the manner of person you are?” she screamed.
The dagger was in her hand before Loren knew what she was doing. She raised it high. Only at the last moment did she stop herself.
The woman’s eyes had rolled nearly all the way back, and her hands feebly tried to pull Loren’s fingers from her neck. Loren could see where her nails had dug into the skin, turning it an angry red under her grip.
She screamed again and turned the dagger. The pommel came crashing down on the woman’s head. The Shade’s skull slammed against the ground, and she lay still. Only then did Loren’s fingers loosen.
When she looked up, she found Chet staring at her in silence. The look on his face nearly made her weep. It held no anger, nor shock, nor even fear. It was sorrow—the same sorrow she had seen in his eyes when he sat beside her in Northwood, and held her as she trembled and cried, murmuring that it was not her fault.
Quickly she turned away. “Annis, fetch rope from my saddle. Now!”
She started to drag the Shades to the base of a beech tree. After a moment’s hesitation, Chet moved to help her. Soon Annis came running with the rope, and then ran to revive Gem with a splash from her water skin. Loren bound all the Shades’ wrists behind their backs before tying the bindings to each other in a circle around the tree. When they woke, they would be able to rise if they all stood together, but they could not move away.
“It will not hold them forever, but long enough for us to make our escape,” she said. “Now get the horses back, and quickly. With luck they will not have run far.”
Chet’s mount had fled after throwing him, but they soon found it a little ways to the northwest. The other horses were nearby, and the travelers swung themselves into their saddles.
Loren feared to look at Chet as they made ready, but finally forced herself to do it. He was studying her from the corner of his eye, and he looked away quickly when he saw her turn towards him.
“We cannot return to our village,” said Loren. “If they followed us this far, it is folly to believe they will not stay on our trail. We will only bring their wrath down upon our home.”
Chet said nothing. Xain watched him for a moment before looking to Loren. “Where, then, do we ride?”
“North. North to Dorsea, and then east to the coast.” She spoke again to Chet. “But that does not have to be your course. You could go on alone, for you can hide your tracks better than the five of us could. They would not follow you, and you could return home in peace. No one will speak ill of you for doing so. Indeed, I would call you wise.”
Still Chet said nothing, and now all the others noted his silence. Gem watched him, mute, an angry bruise growing on his cheekbone.
“That is a fine dagger you have,” Chet said at last. He kicked his horse and rode north, and was soon out of sight among the trees.
“Do not get used to seeing it,” Gem called after him.
After a long and doubtful look, Annis spurred on after Chet. Xain still sat, waiting and watching Loren.
“Turn your eyes, wizard,” said Loren. “They should be on the road ahead.”
He shrugged and pulled on the reins, and together they went after the others.
NOW THEIR STEPS FELT HOUNDED, and traveling through the woods no longer gave Loren any sense of peace. All that day, she could not banish thoughts of their fight with the Shades. Over and over she saw in her mind’s eye the dagger held aloft, ready to plunge into the soft flesh of the woman’s throat.
For she had been ready to strike, that she knew. Fueled partly by her worry for Gem, whom the Shade had attacked, and partly by the thrill of the fight, she had very nearly taken the woman’s life.
But you did not, she tried to tell herself.
Yet it had been a near thing. So near, in fact, that she could almost imagine the feeling of the dagger sliding through skin.
And why stop yourself? came a voice in her mind.
She had been a killer before she first left the Birchwood, though she had only recently learned that fact. Along all the road south, and then west and north and east again, she had counseled peace to her companions. She had called Jordel bloodthirsty, and admonished Gem and Annis when they wished violence on others. Now those words became a bitter ash in her memory, and she half wished she could take them back.
More than the dagger, though, she saw Chet’s sorrowful eyes. He had not moved to stop her. He had not even cried out. He had only watched, and if Loren had struck, he would have let her. What would she have seen in his eyes, she wondered, if indeed she had killed the Shade?
They stopped as the sun set and evening came over the Birchwood. Still Loren could not meet Chet’s eyes, so she made a show of adjusting Midnight’s saddle.
“We will rest here for a time, but we should ride again once the moons rise.”
“Another midnight ride,” said Gem. “They seemed romantic at first, but repetition has dampened their appeal.”
“You may stay and sleep the night here, if you wish,” said Loren, much more harshly than she had intended. Gem balked and looked away without an answer.
“Loren, he meant nothing,” said Annis quietly.
“I grow weary of his complaining. I will return in a moment.”
She hobbled Midnight and walked away, hoping they would think she was going to make water. In truth, she only wanted to be alone. Soon she came upon a clearing, the other end of it invisible in the dimming twilight, and sat with her back against a tree. Sightless she stared into the darkness, her hands fiddling in her lap, trying to banish the anger and the melancholy that plagued her.
“You cannot lie to me, you know.”
Chet’s words came from nowhere, and frightened her half to death. She jerked to her feet. He stood by the tree she had rested against, leaning there with arms folded. Loren shoved his shoulder hard.
“Do not sneak up on me like that!”
He gave a smile, but it was tinged with sadness. “You would prefer I tramped around the forest like an ox? I thought we sought to go with stealth.”
“You know what I mean. Go back to the others. Leave me be.”
“Why? What ails you?”
She glared. “Why, nothing at all. It is only that murderers chase us through the forest, and twice they have nearly killed us. No matter what we try, we cannot evade them for long. Indeed, it is only by the greatest miracles of luck that we are alive at all. So as you can see, it is nothing. What could I possibly be worried about? Clearly our fortune is such a blessing that we need not concern ourselves with any worldly troubles.”
He did not answer, but only looked back at her, and now the stars shone bright enough for her to see him. He had the same look he had worn earlier, when she nearly killed the Shade.
“Stop that,” she snapped.
“What?”
“You look at me with pity. I do not ask for it, I do not need it, and most importantly, I do not want it. Save it for Xain, who suffers greater than any of the rest of us.”
“I do not pity you, though I will admit it pains me to see you suffer the way you do.”
“I do not suffer!”
It came out as a shout. She drew a deep breath and spoke in a more measured tone.
“I do not suffer. Yes, I am worried, and if you do not understand why, you are a fool.”
“You cannot lie to me, as I have said already.”
Her teeth ground together, and her words came with great effort. “You think I am lying? Very well. Tell me the truth.”
“I saw in your face the moment when you almost killed that woman.”
“I did not almost kill her.”
“You cannot—”
“I am not lying!” She no longer cared how loud she was. “I am not a murderer!”
