A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 4
Slowly his awareness of sein permeated the entire memory. He tasted blood on his lips, felt blades cutting his skin, and faintly smelled fire. Yet he needed more. No matter how he looked, he saw only his memories of the battle, not any true awareness of sein. When he strained his ears to hear beyond the memory it was even worse, the sounds of the battle fading away into nothingness. Grasping his sein more deeply remained thoroughly beyond him.
Failure distracted him from his purpose and Slaten realized that his physical eyes had spotted something outside himself. He surfaced from the inner experience to investigate, then found himself jumping to his feet.
Figures moved through the trees behind them.
Putting all thoughts of training aside, Slaten desperately tried to examine them. The cloaks blended in with the trees, but he was certain it was the mansthein soldiers. Worse, at the head of the group moved the Catai, pushing through the trees like grass. They had stayed off the main road, which could only mean one thing: they were in pursuit.
After one more look, he sprinted back down the side of the hill to the campfire. He was taken aback for a moment when he saw that the food was gone except for a bowl Tani had saved for him - how long had he been meditating on his sein? Everyone turned to look at him, so he just gasped out the important facts.
"We've been tracked. There's a Catai."
"Fuck." Veron spat out what she was drinking into the fire and leapt to her feet, though she did keep her grip on the jug. "Leave the fire. Just take our supplies and move."
After so long running, everyone acted immediately. Slaten hadn't removed anything from his pack, so it was a simply matter to swing it onto his back and check to see if anyone needed help. To his surprise, even Laeri was putting away her things, only a little flustered. The sole problem was that Melal was nowhere to be seen, but he often wandered off on his own.
Veron didn't seem to give him even a moment of thought, she simply jerked her head for all of them to follow. They scrambled into the forest, going northeast instead of along their previous path. Slaten glanced over his shoulder, but there was no sign of pursuit yet. That wouldn't last, especially once the mansthein realized that their quarry had started to run.
Unfortunately, running in the forested hills wasn't as simple as it had been on the plains of the Expanse. Tani twisted her way past branches and over rocks with her superior agility, while Veron was simply so fast that she had plenty of time to react. But though Laeri had been working on her running to keep up with them, she often stumbled and caught her robe on branches. Slaten stayed nearby in case she fell.
It wasn't the first time they had been pursued, so they settled into the fastest rhythm they could maintain. They took a sharp turn west and Veron led them through a crevice that Slaten worried would tighten, but it only brought them out into another valley. He began to hope that they might slip their pursuers until he saw that there was no path ahead but to scale the side of a vast hill.
When they reached the top he looked back. He could just see the mansthein soldiers struggling in the woods... and the Catai leapt up onto the rock above the crevice, then began pounding after them.
"Shit." Veron paused only briefly, then gestured for all of them to head straight north. "We can still try to outpace him, but look for a good spot to fight."
They began sprinting north as best they could given the terrain. Slaten considered picking up Laeri, but she was barely managing to keep up. Besides, he needed to keep his arms free if the Catai caught up.
Part of him had hoped that the uneven ground would allow them to outpace the Catai's brute speed: as Tani had observed, Catai could propel themselves forward with great force, but most lacked agility. Unfortunately, the massive warrior's armored skin proved a surprising advantage in the chase. When he looked back, he saw the Catai simply letting branches shatter off his body.
Beyond that, their group had to move somewhat carefully to avoid turning their ankles or falling over a sudden cliff. The Catai had no fear of a short fall and his thick legs wouldn't be damaged easily. Slaten realized that a fight was inevitable and placed his hand on his sword.
Of course he did. That was the only solution he had to any problem.
Even with all his preparation, Slaten was warned only by the fact that Veron somehow disappeared into the woods. Based on what he knew of her...
The Catai exploded from the woods behind them, a pillar of mottled blue muscle bearing a long maul. Slaten had turned and just started to draw his sword, but knew that he wouldn't be fast enough.
At that moment Veron broke from a nearby bush, intercepting the Catai with a sword thrust at full speed. Her aim was perfect, but the Catai had a heartbeat to notice her attack and shifted his arm in the way. The blade pierced his muscular arm instead of his chest, leaving Veron vulnerable with her weapon trapped in the Catai's arm.
He knew this was his best chance and moved, though the two warriors continued fighting while he was stepping forward. Veron ducked under an awkward swipe from the maul and tried to pull her sword out, earning only a pained grunt. The Catai jerked the arm away from her, forming a fist...
Slaten struck, his sword slicing down into the arm with all his body and sein behind it. The edge drew a line of blood across the Catai's skin and no more.
The Catai didn't even turn to fight him, instead slamming his shoulder into Veron and sending her hurtling away. Her body struck a tree and went over the edge of a hill, but there was no time to look for her.
Now Slaten was the only one standing in the Catai's range.
Though he used the larger warrior's distraction to attempt a thrust, it was too hasty and glanced off the side of the Catai's chest. For all the strength he had gained, that iron skin was still an obstacle to him. Nothing less than a perfectly placed blow would strike true.
With a roar the Catai swept his maul around, the heavy end narrowly missing Slaten as he backed up. A knife struck the side of the Catai's head, but it deflected off the ridge of bone around his ear. Tani was helping, but unless she aimed perfectly, all she could do was keep the Catai on his guard.
Even that might not be enough, given how aggressively the Catai advanced. If the mansthein's other arm hadn't been injured, Slaten would already have been overwhelmed, because he could barely keep up with the maul being swung one-handed. Its only weakness was that it had such a large swinging arc in a wooded environment, so he backed up between two trees and readied his blade for a thrust.
He realized with shock that the Catai was simply swinging at his side with full strength.
Slaten dropped almost to the ground and felt more than heard the maul tear directly through the tree trunks above him. If he hadn't ducked, it would have landed on his side. Pushing himself past the surprise, he lunged forward in a thrust. The tip of his sword pierced the Catai's stomach...
The back end of the maul thrust back at him, hammering into his chest.
His back and then chest struck trees painfully, then Slaten found himself lying in the dirt a short way down the hill. Somehow he had kept a grip on his sword, but his body trembled when he tried to rise. Though the Catai could have finished him off, instead the massive warrior turned toward Tani, his arm raised to guard his eyes as he shrugged off her thrown knives.
Realizing that the Catai thought the blow had killed him, Slaten carefully rose and tried to plan his attack. His chest ached, but there was no sharp pain as if ribs had broken. At least all his defensive arts had brought him to the point where he could endure a Catai's blow to the chest.
Tani was mobile enough to avoid the Catai, but Laeri wasn't far away, hiding behind a tree. If the Catai grew frustrated enough, he would pursue her instead of Tani and then the threat would become immediate. But when should he attack? Slaten's hands were sweaty on the hilt of his sword and he tried to wipe them off one at a time as he circled.
In the end, he hesitated too long. Veron emerged from behind the Catai and kicked up between his legs. With the full force of her sein behind it, the blow ended in a grisly crunching sound. The Catai let out a roar of pain and rage, but only staggered a step, his maul rising to retaliate...
Tani's next knife went directly into his eye. That produced an even louder roar and the Catai began to swing around himself wildly, just forcing them back as he recovered.
Determined not to stand by uselessly again, Slaten crept closer and prepared to strike. Tani had her sickle knife out and three throwing knives ready in her other hand. Veron remained unarmed, but she looked past the Catai to make eye contact. They had the injured Catai trapped within a triangle: he was still formidable, but with the correct strategy they could exploit his new blind spot.
"Die, Deathspawn!" Melal abruptly charged in from the forest, his blade singing as it left its sheath.
Warned by his cry, the Catai immediately whirled, his maul arcing in an overhand swing that should have been fatal. Yet propelled by the light of the Hero, Melal bashed it aside and then thrust his blade directly through the Catai's chest.
Many believed that strikes to the heart were immediately fatal, but Slaten knew that warriors could hang on to life for some time, and he had once seen a Catai continue fighting with a sword through his chest. This one didn't. The Hero's blade contained no ambiguity.
"Another one of these huge bastards down." Melal pushed over the corpse and pulled his sword free, the blade untouched by blood. He sheathed it and grinned down at the body. "A nice victory to start our trip into the Sotunn Mountains, eh?"
Ignoring him, Tani instead looked to Veron. The older woman nodded, retrieved her sword, and headed down the hill. Slaten belatedly realized that she was going to eliminate the lesser soldiers so there would be no one to leave word of the attack. Given how long it might take the mansthein to send another group, that would give them time to escape into the mountains.
He should have thought of that, but his mind wasn't fully on the combat. Slaten wearily cleaned his blade, discouraged by how little blood he'd drawn. As far as he had advanced, it wasn't far enough if he hoped to keep up with the Hero.
If keeping up was his goal.
While they picked up dropped supplies and gathered themselves, Slaten churned the fight over in his mind. He barely even noticed that Laeri spent a long time tending to Melal before coming to help him, though he was glad when her healing sein eased the pain in his chest. By the time they started to trek north again, Slaten felt he had begun to digest his frustration.
Catai were no longer an impossible obstacle, yet in each battle with one he was still a heartbeat away from death. His body might be able to withstand an indirect blow, but if that maul connected with his head with full force behind it... he might survive, but death would be more merciful.
Still, he found himself reflecting on the fact that many Catai used warhammers, mauls, and other blunt weapons. The mansthein were capable of equipping all their soldiers with swords, and Catai were no more brutish than the average warrior, so there must be a reason for it. Their strength made it easier to wield large weapons, but an over-sized sword might serve them better. There must be a reason.
Still turning over the issue in his mind, Slaten moved to walk beside Veron. "Do you think there's a reason that most Catai use blunt weapons?"
"Why the fuck are you asking me?" Veron scowled at him, but he could see that he'd forced her to think about it. For a few heartbeats, before she shrugged. "Hell if I know. Tradition, maybe? I doubt there's any real reason that so many of them go around shirtless."
"I thought that was to intimidate. Proof that they don't need armor."
"Maybe there's a logical reason. Maybe they just like staring at their big manly muscles."
"I'm not just asking out of curiosity." He absentmindedly put his hand on the hilt of his newest sword. "I was wondering if a sword isn't a good weapon to use against them. Their skin resists cuts better than thrusts, but as we saw this fight, that isn't enough to disable them. I thought perhaps a different tactic..."
"Kid, I'm sure you want to believe there's a trick to getting stronger, but in my experience it just doesn't matter." Veron stopped scowling and instead regarded him seriously. "Catai have such powerful sein that they could kill you with a wooden plank or a random rock. And if you're fast enough, it doesn't really matter what you're using to kill someone. Pick whatever weapon feels right in your hand and just focus on your sein."
He nodded and fell back, since arguing further was pointless. Though he accepted that Veron was much more experienced than him, Slaten wasn't willing to accept her conclusion immediately. Everyone's experience had gaps, and Veron seemed more unbalanced than many warriors. There was something he could learn, he just wasn't sure what it was.
Though they remained vigilant for other mansthein, they traveled for several days without any other incidents. They made poor time, with frequent arguments about whether or not it would be wiser to take one of the roads. Slaten mostly stayed outside the circle, both because he doubted they could convince Melal with words and because he wanted to contemplate his sein.
As they passed higher into the foothills, the air itself grew colder. Most inhabitants of the Chorhan Expanse would have been shocked, but Slaten remembered the searing ice created by the Zeitai and felt certain that this was only the beginning.
Gradually their attempt to make their own path grew truly difficult. They found themselves facing steeper inclines and occasionally regions of craggy cliff faces. Melal and Tani could leap to the top, while Slaten could generally scale them with enough momentum. Many proved impossible for Laeri, so Veron would simply pick the young woman up despite her protestations and carry her.
One day Laeri was trudging along when one of the straps on her pack abruptly broke. She let out a yelp and the uneven weight sent her staggering to the side. The others turned to act, but it was too late: she dropped the pack and it skidded down a rocky incline, vanishing into a narrow crevice.
"I-I'm sorry!" She cringed even before Melal yelled at her, while Tani began examining the crevice. When Slaten walked up beside her, she was kneeling down and peering within.
"I think I can see it at the bottom," she said, "it's just a question of how best to reach it."
"Leave it!" Melal turned away from Laeri to focus on them. "Getting it back will take too long. We need to go north to reach Mount Tmil!"
"We need to eat," Tani said in a gentle voice. "And think about how bad Laeri will feel if she loses the supplies she was carrying."
Melal argued back, but Slaten was too tired to get involved. Instead he began lowering himself down into the crevice. It didn't seem as though it became too narrow at any point, but some of the rocks did look rather sharp. That made him a better candidate than Tani, so he would just act before Melal realized.
Still, it took him some time to lower himself through the shadowy crevice. Many of the rocks were sharp fragments, but after a brief test, Slaten grasped them without hesitation. The fact that his skin was untouched by the edges might have impressed some, but to him it was just a pale imitation of the Catai's apparent invincibility. Not nearly enough.
By the time he'd reached the bottom, he'd worked himself into a foul mood, but at least the pack was mostly undamaged. Since they were frequently thrown aside in fights, they'd purchased packs that didn't easily spill their contents. Slaten pulled it over one shoulder and began making the long climb back up.
When he crawled back to the surface there was no one to help him over the edge, but he saw that Tani and Veron had focused on convincing Melal. It sounded as though they'd had some success, too. Slaten listened with one ear while tying the broken strap into usable condition and returning it to Laeri. Eventually they were ready and Melal was convinced.
"Very well, we take the main road if it will get us into the Sotunn Mountains faster. But all of you need to stop whining, because the journey up the side of Mount Tmil will be far more dangerous!"
That might be, but Slaten was just relieved to take a more ordinary route. It required most of a day to get back to the road, since Melal insisted on taking a northerly path, but eventually they reached it. The stone road wound around hills, but it was a far easier path than forcing their way through.
On the road they made good progress, the mountains drawing ever closer. They no longer stood frozen on the horizon as they had at the beginning of the journey, leaving Slaten to wonder whether they would suddenly enter the mountains or whether the change would be imperceptible, the way the Expanse bled into other environments at its edges.
Even though they didn't lose any more packs and the road was easier on their shoes, Slaten worried that the environment would take a serious toll. The Hero might deny all logic, but Slaten suspected that he could die of cold or starvation like any other man. It was too late to make further preparations, however, so he could only hope that the Legend carried them through.
Ahead, he saw Tani round a hill and immediately freeze. He hurried to follow, prepared for an ambush, but it soon became obvious that there was no such threat. Veron moved to stand beside Tani and just folded her arms with a flat gaze, and when Slaten caught up, he understood why.
Stakes lined the path ahead of them, many topped by heads. Some were bleached skulls while others still crawled with maggots. For a moment Slaten thought the stakes were covered in blood, but he realized that it was actually red paint.
"Looks like these are your raiders, Tani." Veron walked up and rapped one of the skulls with her knuckles. "They seem friendly, putting out a greeting like this."
"This is an excellent sign!" Melal strode forward, examining the skull carefully. "Look at the sides... this is a Deathspawn skull! The raiders are fighting their own battle against the enemy. Perhaps they simply lack direction..."
Slaten hadn't thought that a line of staked skulls could become more ominous, but this was far from the first time he'd been wrong. Yet there was nothing he could do but follow as they headed past the skulls into the Sotunn Mountains.
