Sorcerer's Child
Sorcerer's Child, cowritten by myself and JanaLee
Stocks, is my first full-length novel. The series
is planned on three full novels, the second of which (Sorcerer's
Journey) is half completed at this time.
The novel is just under 500 pages long, and obviously is of a fantasy
nature.
The Sorcerer’s Child: Chapter Three
The cold seeped into the little shelter, waking Renissa from her light sleep. She grumbled ever so softly, huddling deeper into her summer cloak and pulling the hood further down around her face. Though the huntress was well accustomed to taking the weather as it came, she didn't necessarily like it; particularly in winter, when the cold made old injuries throb and scar tissue ache. It didn't help that the warmest part of her gear was currently sheltering Tyrin and the two horses. She didn't really begrudge him the warmth, as he needed it more than she; but awakening well before dawn several nights running was making her grumpy. She hadn't even gotten a good hunt out of it. Slowly the huntress clambered to her feet, careful not to disturb the sleeping man as she slipped outside to tend to necessities and see how much snow had fallen. Movement began to return the feeling to her numb feet and she gritted her teeth until the pins and needles feeling began to pass. Just at the edge of the shelter Renissa paused to fetch a small pot, the smaller of the two she carried. For a moment her thoughts lingered on the prospect of a real bed and a proper heated bath in town. It would be expensive, but chasing away the cold would be worth the coin and she yearned to be properly clean. She sighed and gave herself a little shake, chasing away the wistful yearning of her thoughts as she moved out of the sheltered glade. The snow was still falling, though the moisture was tiny points against the dark foliage instead of the broad flakes that had driven them under shelter. The area was still and quiet, with only the sounds of her footfalls breaking the serene peace as the huntress searched for dry tinder. It was an ironic contrast to the death and destruction they’d left behind, and for a moment Renissa wondered idly if Rebün was covered as well. Somehow it seemed a gentle end to lives lost in such violence, almost as though the gods were tucking the dead beneath a blanket of frost. She glanced back at the shelter and shook her head, deciding to let Tyrin sleep until he woke on his own. He needed the rest. It was nearly midmorning before Tyrin awoke. His first thoughts were of how warm he was, which was a stark contrast to the memories of the prior day. Opening his eyes, however, told him the reason for the warmth. Both horses had escaped their tethers and joined him underneath the tent. It was a miracle in and of itself that the tenting remained, given their girth. He chuckled, shaking his head as he tried to move and found himself pinned. Tyrin squirmed around until he got one arm free and thumped on Guir’s side to get the horse’s attention. When the stallion turned his brown eyes to Tyrin, the man smiled. “Come on, time to get up and get out of here. There’s only so much room under this, and you two are monopolizing it. Go on, get.” He pushed against Guir, though he knew he couldn't physically move the horse if it decided to remain. Guir, however, snorted once and began to stand, careful of where he trod. Horses don’t walk backwards very well, but he somehow managed it without bringing down the tenting. Tyrin then turned his attention to Mica, who had already awoken and was fixing him with a calm look. “Alright, girl, you too. I know you don’t like the snow, but get on out there.” Mica released a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh before she, too, stood and headed out into the snowy frontier. Tyrin laid back and stretched before he got to his feet and peeked out of the tent. He looked at the snowfall around his feet and smiled. “Guess we were both wrong about the amount of snow. This didn’t turn out too bad at all. This should be no problem to travel in.” He kicked at the snow with the toe of his boot. It looked to be no more than a few inches, barely enough to impede their travel. Renissa looked over at the farmer from where she was crouched in the lee of the tree trunks. A wisp of smoke rose from a small fire in a warmer. The little device was a flat disk of metal that allowed her just enough flame to heat her teapot. It was silly to try for anything bigger in the confines of the tenting, not to mention in the snow. “Stick your nose a bit further outside before speaking too quickly, boyo. It looks as though the wind switched around to the west…we were simply very lucky.” The thin shirt Tyrin wore did little to relieve the cold he felt when he stepped fully out of the tent. The wind was biting cold though the snowfall had, for the most part, slowed down to a mere dusting. Within the tight grove of trees they had camped in, the snowfall amounted to only a few inches. However, just outside of the grove, the snowfall had been heavier; easily passing the foot depth mark, it would make traveling much more difficult for the horses than the prior day had been. Guir had already moved back to where they had been tethered the night before and was snacking on some exposed brambles and bushes. Mica was ignoring the stubbly brush, scratching at the ground with a hoof in search for sweeter roots buried underneath the newly fallen snow. She looked up as Tyrin approached and nuzzled up to him with a snort, asking where the long grasses she'd come to expect for breakfast were. Tyrin absently scrubbed at her head as he continued to look around. He could no longer see the smoke from his former home; he supposed that was a good thing, since his path now lay in a different direction. Every direction looked the same to his eyes, the heavy storm lingering and obscuring the distant mountains even if it wasn’t snowing currently. The sky was a murky gray, threatening to open up again if they displeased it. Tyrin shivered, realizing his arms were covered with goose pimples and the cloak Renissa had given him was back in the tent. He thumped Mica once more on the side to reassure her that all was well before he made his way back to the shelter. Tyrin opened the flap and ducked inside, noticing immediately that the small fire Renissa had made for her tea had another effect as well; it was noticeably much warmer in the tent than it was outside. He motioned over his shoulder and said, “Looks to be about a foot or more past the clearing. We’d be best on horseback, but we’ll have to take it slow or risk their footing too much.” “I suggest simply walking. It will be easier on all of us in the long run, especially the horses. If the horses get caught in anything too deep they can kick out of it if they’re not encumbered by us on their backs, and on foot we won't sink as far.” Renissa rubbed her hands together, crushing herbs into the pot that immediately filled the small area with a musky, sweet scent. She nodded toward her supply bag. “Bread and cheese lasts in there. Eat or you'll be worn out before we've gone around the corner.” She suspected that he'd end up flung over one of the horses before all was said and done, but she spared his pride the commentary. “This will be ready in a moment…warming, but in a slightly different way than your draught last night.” Tyrin sighed ruefully. “I would hope in a different way. That horrible drink nearly did what burying me in a building couldn’t do.” He shook his head as he moved over to the mentioned bag, his stomach remembering that he hadn’t eaten for nearly two days. Tyrin found the cheese and bread, though he ate only enough to stave off the hunger. He didn’t want to eat all of the food and have them run dry before reaching civilization. If that became a concern, Tyrin’s father had shown him how to find good, edible roots in the forest. Though not filling and by no means tasty, they would do to keep them alive until they got to the town. He hadn’t mentioned this fact yet to Renissa, as he suspected she knew about the self-same roots. He finished about a third of the cheese and bread before he turned back to his new traveling companion. “My thanks, again.” Renissa's lips turned in a faint smile as Tyrin spoke about the effects of the spirits he'd drunk last night. She'd grown up on it, her first taste at the tender age of six and she'd been sure she was going to die, but that had passed. These days it was milder than some of the drinks she preferred when time allowed. She fished a clay mug from the hook on the outside of her bag and checked to make sure it hadn't cracked in the cold or the travel before she poured half of the contents of the pot into it and offered it to Tyrin. “Thanks aren’t needed. I would be an honorless fop had I left you there, and I'm glad for the company.” The last was a half-truth, as there were ways that she was grateful and ways in which she would prefer her privacy. “Have a care for your tongue, the tea is hot.” Tyrin accepted the mug gracefully, allowing the steam from the drink to waft over his face with a sigh. The steam was fragrant but not overly so, and the warmth of it immediately began to thaw his chilled ears and nose. He allowed the liquid to cool slightly before he sipped at it. It was strong, but not in the way the prior drink had been. This, though gentle tasting, immediately began to warm him from the inside out. Tyrin sat down cross-legged and sipped at the drink, enjoying the warmth. After a moment he glanced at his companion, millions of questions coming to his mind. “I am glad for the company, as you likely know. Given that I’d likely be dead by now if you'd not come along when you did only sharpens my gratitude.” He looked back toward the flap of the tent, to the outside world. “Plus, my knowledge of the world is severely lacking. If you don’t mind the questions of a fool, perhaps you could enlighten me.” “It is said that the foolish is not one that has questions, but one who doesn't ask them.” Renissa lifted the pot from the flame, wrapping a scrap of hide around it so that she wouldn't burn herself. “I can not guarantee answers for all of your questions, but I will answer what I can.” Tyrin nodded, deciding to go with the most basic, yet most complicated question first. “What are sorcerers? You told me a bit yesterday, but with everything that was happening, I feel there is more about them than just that they use magic.” Dark eyes studied Tyrin and Renissa tapped her fingers on the edge of the cooling pot. “Likely not the easiest question to start with, but fair enough. At the most basic level, a sorcerer is simply someone that uses magic. Legend says that they are those born under a curse, the first of such beings born many years ago under the blood fullness of a dragon moon. The power shows in many as infants, though some are rumored to not manifest until much later.” She shook her head a little, the coiled length of her hair rolling along her shoulders. “Feared and pitiable all at once, they are creatures doomed to fall to the madness of the powers that consume them.” She paused to take a sip of her drink, steam rolling away from her head as she did so. “Feared?” Tyrin shook his head, the thought of anyone fearing his parents an absurd thought… until he thought of the fire Ma had produced, and the sheer amount of destruction those fires had wrought. In defense, admittedly, but the strength was still the same. He sighed and shook his head, allowing her to continue. Renissa nodded, quiet for a moment. “Some are feared simply because of the idea that such power could exist all together, and because there is no specific list anywhere of what they can and cannot do. Every one of them is different. And I have yet to hear of any that did not give into the power madness and eventually strike out against others in anger or for greed. More war and sorrow has been brought to our lands in the name of sorcerer's power than any other force. More loss and more death in the name of sorcery.” Her voice drifted and she could again hear the screams as her parents fell. She gave herself a shake to clear the memory. “It is rightfully called a curse. Perhaps at one time men were made that were big enough to hold the power, to use it for something besides destruction; but it has either become too much larger than we, or mankind has become smaller.” Tyrin thought for a moment, reflecting on her words. Every one was different… this explained why his mother worked with fire, while his father did… something, though Tyrin had no idea exactly what he did to block those arrows. “And for this, they’re hunted by yourself and others like you?” “Most often, yes, if they survive childhood; many do not. I know that it sounds like a harsh thing, and I wish it was not necessary.” She lifted the pot to her lips again, sipping quietly. There were many things she wished hadn't been necessary. “But isn't it better to visit one death, rather than burying a decimated village?” Tyrin still didn’t necessarily agree, but he could see her point. After all, though he’d known his parents all his life, he didn’t know how other “sorcerers” handled their power. His parents had chosen the simplistic farm life, but he could see how someone with more corrupt morals could take it much, much further. But far enough so that all with powers like that needed to be killed, almost from birth? He decided to change the subject. “So where do you hail from? You’re obviously not from Rebün, but you don’t appear to have come from the south.” The change of subject surprised her slightly and she arched an eyebrow at him. Renissa was never very comfortable talking about herself. “From all over really, though I grew up in the east. MifKartölic.” Her voice took on a guttural accent when pronouncing the city name, though the accent passed back to something softer as she continued. “It's foothills and mountains mostly. More rugged than this.” “MifKartölic?” Tyrin tried to pronounce the name, and came passably close. “Where is that?” She turned her head, looking eastward. “Out there, toward the East and at the edges of our land. Nearly half a season's journey by foot, more if you travel during the winter. It's right at the edges of the kingdom; everything beyond is unclaimed wild lands.” Tyrin shivered. Even he’d heard about the wild lands, places where creatures of strange and supernatural abilities flourished away from the conquering hand of mankind. He’d read about some of them in his father’s books; dragons that could kill an army of men with a single breath of fire; trolls that could regenerate within an hour from being completely chopped to pieces; marauding orcs that rode on demonic horses; and others he didn’t want to think about at the time. Towns near the border to the wild lands tended to be very rough towns, and the people that lived there were either very hardy, very foolish, or both. “How bad are the wild lands, truly? I’ve heard and read about them, but though the area north of Rebün is technically a wildland, it’s too cold for anything other than the fire mites to survive.” She smiled a strange smile, tilting her head to one side. “Truly…they're as bad as you make them out to be. Harsh and unforgiving, with more odd things than scholars can even give names to. Most of which you never see unless it's the last thing you see.” She drained the last of her tea, glancing down to the bottom of the pot and the leaves that clung to the metal. There had been women at home that had said you could see one's future in leftover tealeaves. Renissa lowered the pot, continuing, “But they're beautiful too. Water so pure and cold that it's almost painful to drink, and skies that go on forever. People as rugged and beautiful as the land. Life is treasured because life is often all too short.” Tyrin nodded. “I can understand that part. Past the farm and into the fields, the landscape was beautiful, if a little barren. And the only creatures beyond normal animals were the fire mites, but they’re as harmless as the few rabbits we get up here.” Renissa eyed the farmer as he commented about fire mites and shook her head. “They must breed more politely around these parts. Most of the mites I've encountered have been... surly... at best.” Tyrin cocked an eyebrow at that. “Really? I’ve never known a fire mite to be anything but docile. They’ll even let you warm your hands over them if you can get close enough. They usually stay out in the fields, though, so I’ve only seen them a time or two.” He chuckled. “The horses don’t like them, so we didn’t typically let them get too close to the farm. But surly? Hardly. I’ve had to deal with hogs that were rowdier.” He adjusted his position slightly, taking another full drink of the tea as he did so. “Then you're the fortunate ones. Mites are scavengers, and more likely to try to eat your hand than warm your hands. Perhaps it’s something to do with the heavy winters you have here, though I’m unaware of how climate changes affect the mites.” Tyrin nodded. “Well, you’re not likely to, either. They haven’t come down this far in a few years. A lot of the townspeople started killing them, since their shells stay warm for almost an entire winter after they die. That became very handy to have around town, especially the Inn. It didn’t take the mites more than a season or two to realize that coming to our area tended to get them killed.” Renissa unfolded her legs, stretching out the muscles as she listened. “Interesting. Mites away from here aren't that intelligent either. I've seen them attack even the well fortified when they were hungry enough. Perhaps it’s a different breed of mite, possibly even a different type altogether.” “Hmm.” Tyrin shrugged, changing the subject again. “Going back to Rebün… you said yesterday that it was unusual for the King to send so many soldiers against sorcerers. Why?” “It is. Usually a Hunter is sent first, though occasionally he’ll send his soldiers if he feels the need is great. This number of soldiers is quite unusual, though.” She rose to her feet, not wishing to pursue the discussion. Something about the soldiers still bothered her. “Come. It's growing late and we should make distance while we talk.” Renissa reached up and began to untie the leathers, rubbing her fingers along the insides of the skins. They needed to be re-oiled... yet another thing that she would have to do while in town. “Good thinking.” Tyrin stood and started to help her remove the tenting, rolling it as tightly as he could as he did so. With their combined efforts, it didn’t take long for the hides to come down and soon they were again exposed to the elements. Tyrin donned the cloak Renissa had given him, very appreciative of the thick, padded hide. The horses watched them from the edge of the clearing, chewing on varied plants without concern. The grazing didn't even pause as saddles and saddlebags were loaded and balanced. Tyrin finished packing one of the hides into the saddlebags and turned back to Renissa. “So how far is the town from here, and what do we do from there?” Renissa gathered the last bits and pieces into her bag, rolling the bedroll tight. “Without snow it's about 3 days, with the snow...” She tapped a finger against the bag, running a quick estimate in her head. “5 days at the soonest, more likely 7-8. And from there...” She looked at him. “It rather depends on what you want to do. Find employment and lodging, travel, there are many options.” “A week.” Tyrin frowned. “And I was eating your food. You don’t have enough for both of us for a week.” He glanced around, spotting a hint of blue beneath the snow. Tyrin smiled. “How’s your taste for roots?” “Rather developed.” The comment was wry. “And there are several options. I found rabbit tracks this morning… a good snare and we'll do fine until we get into town. I have iron rations and smoked meats as well, which will last a good while.” Tyrin nodded as he bent down and pushed a bit of snow away from a small plant. It was buried in the snow and was very low to the ground. A single bluish-white flower was in partial bloom in the center, and there were few leaves remaining on the bud. He looked up at Renissa. “Ever heard of a snow lily? A tiny little flower, barely noticeable, that grows in abundance around here, especially in winter. But,” he pulled gently on it, and with a bit of tugging the root system of the flower was exposed as he continued, “the roots run deep, and one flower will feed a person for nearly a day. It tastes like the devil, but its better than starving if you know what to look for.” Renissa looked over at the plant and nodded, taking note of the distinguishing features of the edible plant. She didn't know this particular variety, but it was similar to others she'd seen. “Let's start with things that don't taste like the devil, and save that for when we are starving.” The words were without rancor, and even slightly amused. “We still have time before bad taste is necessary.” “Aye.” Tyrin placed the plant in the saddlebag with the hide and closed the clasp to secure it. Mica turned her head and sniffed at it, and Tyrin playfully pushed the horse’s head away. “One way to find them easily, of course, is to let the horses find it. They’ll eat the flowers and leaves right off of them if you’re not careful.” He enjoyed actually being able to teach Renissa something and getting appreciation shown for it. Despite everything she knew, he still knew something she didn’t. That made him feel a little better, and perhaps a little more prepared for the road life had designed for him. Renissa showed a little half smile that seemed to be as close to true amusement as she expressed. “Might be just as well. Feeding people is often easier than feeding horses. Nice when they can follow their noses.” Tyrin chuckled, affectionately rubbing Mica’s snout. Mica, for her part, did her absolute best to keep him rubbing on her, leaning up against him. “Guir’s not as good at finding them as Mica. She’ll find them even through the deepest snow. Guir almost needs you to walk him to them. But he’s the sturdiest mount we had, so it’s a good trade off.” Renissa snorted softly, shaking her head. “And he'll just eat me if he gets bored or hungry enough.” She slung her pack across her shoulders. “Are you ready then? We should try to make a warding before nightfall.” Tyrin wasn't sure what a warding was, but assumed it was some kind of sheltering place. “As long as there’s a roof there and I don’t wake up with horses again.” He didn’t look at all unhappy about waking up with the horses, however. The scared survivor from the day before was nearly gone, replaced by Tyrin’s more typically jovial outlook. He took Mica’s reins and led her out of the tree grove. Guir looked at Renissa and snorted once. Without waiting for her, the horse started walking off after Mica and Tyrin, his tail swishing as he walked. Renissa shook her head a little, moving off to follow the stallion. “I hope someone eats you...” The comment was very quietly made to the horse's back and far too soft to be heard by Tyrin. She moved around Guir, glancing over their intended path with a critical eye. The snowdrifts were spotty, forming where the wind had been channeled through the trees. In addition, the snowfall had been reduced due to the heavy forest cover. Once outside the grove of trees, however, it got worse. The snowfall had been heavier here with little by the way of forest cover to impede its progress. The horses picked their way through fairly well; having spent their lives here, they’d seen more than one large snowfall in their time. Tyrin also had little trouble in the snow, and they were making good time. After they’d traveled about two hours in silence, Tyrin cleared his throat. “So where did you learn to, ah, hunt sorcerers? Was this something you took up in trade, or something you’d wanted to do? What all is involved with the hunt?” Renissa was quiet a moment, almost as though she hadn't heard the question, before glancing at her companion. “I learned from another Hunter. He had reached an age where actively hunting was dangerous at best, so he took me in as an apprentice.” She pushed a branch out of her way, dislodging a mass of snow as she did so. She sidestepped the falling snow with a quick movement before continuing, “Hunting sorcerers isn't just a trade one picks up, despite the mercenary teams that occasionally try. It's something that will push you to the edge of your limits and question everything you've ever believed. To hunt effectively, a sorcerer must have wronged you so you can understand why the hunt is necessary. No one I know will take on an apprentice who doesn't understand such things and has never known true pain.” She reached up and tucked a lock of hair back into the braid. Her actions folded the collar at her neck slightly and showed the beginning of a scar that disappeared under the fabric. “It requires training, study, and dedication... skill with a blade doesn't hurt either.” Tyrin was quiet for a moment, aware of the magnitude of what he’d been told. He didn’t ask any further questions, letting the conversation drop again. He knew she’d told him a lot more than she probably told a lot of people, and he also knew better than to pry too deep. The snow crunched under their feet as the day waned on. Behind them at their abandoned camp, sharp eyes peered over the remains of their previous night’s rest. A few mutters could be heard from a voice that was very, very deep. Finally, the voice barked what sounded like some orders and heavy footfalls sounded as the intruders headed south, after the humans and their horses. * * * Nature, though patient, is also speedy in her ways. Rebün hadn’t been destroyed a day before the snowfall covered the remains of the town, blanketing the destruction and death in pristine white. No sound echoed for miles around the desolation, none save that from a hawk passing far overhead. The hawk winged its way north, traveling quickly with the tailwind. Rebün came into view first and the hawk landed in a nearby tree. The town was in full view from the branches and the destruction was quite evident even beneath the snow. After a few minutes of intense study, the hawk took to flight again, spiraling higher into the sky in order to see more of the countryside. It was not long before a small farmland came into view, though the farmhouse itself was destroyed. Even coated with snow the mass destruction here could not be hidden entirely from the air. The large crater in the center, near where a farmhouse had stood, was a dead giveaway to the forces that had worked here. It was to this location that the hawk descended to, his wings flapping to slow himself down as he came to light. The hawk landed near the crater and stepped cautiously to it, lowering his head towards the ground. After a few moments of study, the hawk flapped carefully and hopped into the crater. Here the surroundings had been shielded from the wrath of the storm and the cairn where Tyrin’s mother and father lay was nearly untouched by snow. The hawk examined the burial site with uncharacteristic intent, hopping closer to it as he did. He even went so far as to peck a few times at the stone, though even the smaller stones were too heavy for him to move. Satisfied with its findings, the creature flapped a few times to remove itself from the crater. Once in the snow, it was very difficult for the bird to navigate, but it hopped over to a telltale mound nearby. The bird scratched eagerly at the mound until a human carcass was revealed. The hawk studied the carcass carefully, pecking at the dead man’s armor a few times. He concentrated especially on the melted links in the man’s chain, pulling at them a few times with his beak. Once enough of it had been pulled off for inspection, the bird took a few long minutes to peer closely at the fused metals. Apparently satisfied, he flew to a tree at the edge of the fields and took one final look toward the farmhouse. From here, the radius of the devastation could be seen, though a large bulk of it was buried in the snow. Motionless save for its eyes, the bird took in the sights. Finally, after one last glance at the cairn and the ruined farmhouse, the hawk took back to the skies, heading southward. The Sorcerer’s
Child: Chapter Four
Snowflakes had begun falling again
by the time the trees parted into a clearing. A small, tidy building
was tucked
into the clearing, a low shed to provide a stabling place for horses
beside it.
Renissa glanced from the sky to the way station before moving forward.
Her
boots were soaked from melting snow and she wanted nothing more than to
get a
fire going and warm her feet.
Tyrin, though he'd worked all his
life at the farm and was in good shape, was nearly worn out. Long
marches were
not on his daily routine and he realized that it was a skill he'd have
to work
on if he intended to continue traveling.
He glanced at Renissa and motioned toward the building.
"Is this
the place?"
She nodded, shaking her braid back
over her shoulder. "It is. If you will settle the horses, I'll see to
starting a fire and our provisions."
Tyrin took hold of Mica's reins and
nodded. He made a clicking noise with his tongue and Guir followed him
toward
the small shed. It didn't take long to settle the pair, especially
since long
grasses had been left in storage. The
grains were a bit old and the shed wasn't the more comfortable stable
they were
used to, but it would have to do; after all, their stables had been
demolished
alongside the farmhouse, leaving them as homeless as he.
He turned and, after one last check
to ensure the shelter latch was secured, left the shed.
He headed into the primary building,
knocking some of the snow off of his boots before entering. He removed
Renissa's cloak as well, shaking the snow off before he draped it over
his arm. The little shack was simple but provided for
the needs
of a weary traveler. It was a single room with a hearth on one wall and
several
neat shelves containing worn blankets and bags of dried foodstuffs. A small pump for water was kept in one
corner, close enough to the hearth to keep from freezing. The wood box
was
full, and it was from this that Renissa had drawn the shavings to begin
the
fire. She leaned down as a spark slipped between stone and steel and
blew
gently on the smoldering ember until the flame began to rise. She then added larger pieces of fuel to the
fire, warmth spreading quickly through the room. She didn't look up as
she
heard Tyrin enter, her attention turned to the flame in order to keep
herself
from being burned. "Make sure to
secure the latch, we want to keep the heat in as much as possible."
Tyrin nodded, throwing the latch
securely behind him as instructed. The
wind
still howled and some of the cold seeped in through the myriad of
cracks and
fissures in the door and walls, but it would be better than sleeping
outside.
He sat down facing Renissa as he
watched her build up the fire. His eyes
were already starting to droop, though he didn't realize how tired he
was until
his chin bumped his chest. Renissa pushed a good-sized log into the
hearth and
nodded to herself as it crackled and began to burn.
She looked up, seeing Tyrin beginning to sag, and nearly
smiled. It
was a strange thing to be traveling with someone again; she hadn't done
so in a
long time, not since Megellan had turned on her. She
didn't allow herself to think of that time, focusing instead
on the now. Tyrin had not complained at the pace she'd set though it
had been
wearing, nor had he taken more than his share of anything. It was... a
change.
The fire catching brought Tyrin back
to semi-wakefulness, and he smiled a sleepy smile.
"Do we need to set a watch here, or is it safe enough for
both to sleep?"
"Mmm... I never bet on safe
enough unless I'm home in my own bed, which hasn't happened in years."
The
huntress rose to her feet and padded over to pull down some of the
blankets.
"I suggest you try another sip of the spirits I carry, eat and then get
some rest. I'll wake you later."
"I'll try a sip, but no
more." His smile became rueful,
thankful for the first sleep. "I'm
not at all hungry. I may have some of
that root I found, simply to have something in my stomach, but I'll do
that
when it's my watch."
Renissa snorted and shook her head,
pointing a finger at him as though it might be a weapon.
"You will eat, and you will not argue
with me on the point. You don't feel hungry now, but you've been on the
move for
hours and eaten hardly anything. You'll feel it in the morning and it
will make
you slow and tired. I'm not dragging
you all over the country that way." She tossed a bag from the shelves
his
way. "There's meat in there, start with that and the drink."
Tyrin had heard his mother use that
tone before, and every time it was used, he and his father did exactly
what she
had been telling them to do. Now was no
different. He nodded reluctantly and
took out some of the stringy, dried meat.
He thought for a moment, contemplating chewing on the
dried meat for
hours, before he shuddered.
Better to start with the drink,
he mused. Get that over with first, and
then try to get taste back in his mouth with the meat.
Tyrin opened the flask grimly, tossed his
head back, and took a large swallow of the fiery liquid.
This time, since he was expecting it, the
drink didn't come right back, though he had to force himself to not gag. Gasping, he set the flask back down and closed
it again, readily taking a bite of the meat as he did so.
The thick spices were enough of a difference
from the shock of the alcohol that his stomach and throat settled,
making him
realize just how hungry he was.
Once she was convinced that Tyrin
was eating, Renissa spread a blanket across the floor and lowered
herself down
onto it. She removed her boots and wool
socks, settling them close enough to the fire to slowly dry. "There are
plenty of blankets. If you put several down before lying down, it'll
keep the
floor from leeching off your body heat.
Add the bedroll to that and I dare say it might actually
be
comfortable."
Tyrin nodded as he listened to the
advice, gnawing through a second piece of meat. After
he'd eaten enough to satisfy her and his stomach, he moved
to drape a few of the blankets on the floor before curling up
underneath the
bedroll. Through blurry eyes, he watched as Renissa removed the matched
blades
from their sheath on her back and began the process of cleaning and
honing the
edges. The whetstone slid against the
metal with a soft whisper of sound, and after a moment Tyrin spoke up
from the
huddle of the blankets. "What...
what are those? I've not seen weapons
like that."
"The ulinar." Renissa's
strokes paused and she tested the
sharp of the first with her thumb.
"Old weapons rarely used due to the style and training
they
require. Most people don't want to
close to a couple of hand spans away from their opponent in order to
get a
strike in. However, the ulinar are deadly
in the hands of someone that knows what to do with them."
She set the first blade aside and began work
on its twin, murmuring softly, "Now go to sleep."
Tyrin nodded, leaning back into the
warmth. His head had barely hit the ground before he was asleep.
As the hours passed, Renissa
finished with the weapons and curled up motionless in a half meditative
state.
Occasionally noises from outside of the small building caught her
attention,
but they seemed to be only the storm picking up again. Shortly before
waking
Tyrin she put her boots back on and ventured outside, checking on the
sleeping
horses and the general feel of the night. There was something in the
air that
caught her attention and she stood still for a long moment, the wind
beating at
her and trying to drive her back inside.
Unable to put a finger on what was bothering her, Renissa
gave herself a
good shake and turned back towards the small building.
She knocked the snow off of her clothing,
gladly welcoming the warmth from the fire before finally moving over to
where
Tyrin lay. Gently but firmly, she shook his shoulder to wake him up.
"Tyrin."
Tyrin was slow to rouse, but finally
he sat up and yawned. "My turn
already?" Renissa nodded, holding back a glib remark. She'd already allowed him to sleep two hours
longer than she'd originally intended and had considered letting him
sleep
through, but she'd not slept much the night before and didn't want to
risk
another completely sleepless cycle. Tyrin yawned again then stood and stretched,
indicating the bedroll he'd just left.
"No sense wasting the warmth.
Climb in there, I'll go check on Mica and Guir... the cold
will help
wake me as well." He pulled the
borrowed cloak on as he talked, noticing that the hide was nearly dry. Boots followed as well as gloves as he
prepared to head back out into the snow.
"They seemed to be all right a
few minutes ago." It wasn't a protest as much as an observation; if he
wished to venture into the cold she wasn't going to stop him. Renissa
sank down
into the nest of warm blankets, not bothering to remove her boots
again. After
a bit of contemplation, she leaned over and tugged one of her packs
across her
lap. She dug through the contents,
drawing a rather wicked looking dagger from her supplies that she
offered hilt
first to Tyrin. "Here...just in case you need it."
"Uh, right." Tyrin warily
took the dagger from Renissa,
holding it loosely. Though he had often
used a knife in his farm duties, he'd never used one for another
purpose; and,
looking at this particular knife, it was obviously intended for
purposes other
than cutting rope and skinning rabbits.
He gripped the dagger more firmly as he opened the latch
and stepped
outside into the cold air, his breath escaping as the bite of the wind
cut into
him. The knife felt heavy and he
finally tucked it into his belt, fearing that if something were to come
at him
he'd be as apt to hurt himself as the enemy.
Tyrin trudged through the deepening
snow over to where the horses were stabled, only to start in surprise. Somehow, Mica and Guir had slipped the latch
and were headed away from the clearing at as fast of a pace as they
could
manage in the snow. "Mica!
Guir!"
Tyrin called into the wind, trying to bring them back. The storm snatched away his words, bringing
another sound to his ears.
Thoom... thoom... thoom...
He turned toward the north as the
sound grew louder. Scrub trees crashed
to the forest floor as whatever approached pushed through them with
little care
for secrecy. Tyrin felt the ground
shudder,
though whether it was real or imagined he couldn't say.
He tried to call for Renissa, but though his
lips moved not a sound escaped them.
Something was coming. Something
big.
Renissa appeared at the doorway only
seconds after the noise had begun. Her cloak and gloves were left
behind but
the ulinar were in her hands, woman and weaponry stark against the glow
of the
fire from beyond the door. She peered into the darkness and frowned,
her breath
escaping as a soft steam. "Tyrin... back... come back where the fire
is." She didn't hope that the fire
would scare off the intruders, but she wanted him clear of whatever was
coming.
Tyrin turned as he heard her voice,
his hair whipping around his face; but before he could reply, the trees
at the
edge of the clearing broke away and three gigantic humanoid creatures
stepped
into the area. They were each easily
over ten feet tall with massively muscled body frames and grossly
distorted
features. They were dressed in light
animal hides that seemed to be draped in randomly across their bodies,
and
their massive feet were bare of covering.
The smallest of the creatures was a light gray color and
carried a
massive bone that he had fashioned into a rudimentary club. The second creature was a dark brown and
also carried a large, rudimentary club, this one made from a small tree. The largest creature was a sickly green in
coloration, and he carried a large bone that had a rusted iron wedge
stuck to
the end. Tyrin's blood turned cold at the sight of the
massive
creatures. He'd never seen such a
creature before, and he doubted there was much Renissa's dagger could
do
against such a force. He backed up a
step, unconsciously stepping back into the horse shed and out of direct
sight.
"Ogres..." Renissa growled
the word, cursing as she did. "Tyrin, get out of there.
Run!"
They must have been driven
out of the north by the storm in their search for prey or they'd been
tracking
the travelers, the thought of which was far from comforting. Renissa
didn't
glance after the horses, but hoped they'd made good progress away;
horseflesh
was a favorite for the creatures, and they would follow a horse until
the poor
creature died of exhaustion. They also had few qualms about settling
for man
flesh. She moved forward into the snow as she eyed
the three,
blades coming up to defense. She'd never fought more than one ogre at a
time;
add that to the less than ideal environment... this was not going to be
fun.
The smallest one stepped up to her
challenge, a wide grin breaking across its face. It
was always better when the prey put up a struggle.
It looped his club around at head level,
looking to take her head off with one massive swipe, but Renissa was
already on
the move. She had expected the opening
attack and ducked, the odd light from the open doorway catching on her
blades
as the half moons darted inside of his reach.
She surged forward, trying to get past his weaponry and
into an open,
exposed part of his body.
Tyrin stared as the battle between
monster and woman was engaged. Perhaps
it was just the light reflecting from inside the doorway, but from his
vantage
point it was almost as if her blades were glowing.
His thoughts were interrupted, however, as a swing from
the
largest ogre's club smashed into the way station and brought it
crashing down
around him. Before Tyrin realized what
was happening, the shed was coming down and, for the second time in
only a few
days, Tyrin was buried beneath a building.
The ogre battling Renissa, for its
part, was surprised by the quickness of its quarry.
Grunting and scowling, he pushed backwards, trying to put
some
distance between them so that he could get his club back around to
swing
again. Renissa didn't have time to look
towards the shed, as she couldn't afford any of her attention away from
her
opponent as she heard the snap of timber. As the ogre pushed backwards
she
continued running forward, slashing upwards and driving her right blade
up his
arm. The razor-sharp blade cut easily, slashing
through
thick hide and deep into sinew and muscle, lodging at his elbow until
she
ripped it away. Ichor flowed swiftly
from the wound, staining the snow below and steaming in the cold.
The ogre roared in pain, dropping
his club as his arm failed to respond to his commands.
With his good arm, he swung at her in a wide
circle, catching Renissa in the stomach.
The wind was knocked out of her as she flew backwards
through the air,
landing about several feet away in a flurry of snow.
The largest ogre, unable to find
Tyrin in the rubble, took his chance then, bringing his large spiked
club
whistling downward toward Renissa's head.
Despite the shock and pain of the previous attack, the
Huntress kept her
wits about her and rolled out of the way of the club. She kept her
blades
tucked in close where she could control them, striving to get enough
distance
to get back to her feet. The club
slammed into the ground, missing her by inches and sending snow and
earth
flying upwards.
Renissa kept rolling, coming up
short at a tree trunk and pulling herself to her feet.
She broke into a run even as her feet didn't
want to stay under her, sliding on the uneven terrain.
Fighting in a storm with snow on the ground
against three ogres out for her blood was sheer madness, though it
occurred to
her that it would make a good story... if she survived long enough to
tell it.
The sound of shifting debris came
from the ruined way station and smoke curled from one end where the
fire was
beginning to spread. This noise turned
the ogres' attention and the other she'd been facing turned from
Renissa, seeking
the easier prey. It crossed Renissa's
mind that the third ogre had disappeared... she didn't know where it
was, but
she couldn't allow them to reach the rubble.
Tyrin was under there, and she didn't know if he was
hurt...or even
dead.
Without pausing to consider the
folly of her actions, she charged at the back of the largest of the
ogres,
jumping up and bringing the ulinar around to sink into the joint where
shoulder
met neck. The blow, however, never
landed.
The third ogre had come up behind
her as she rolled. For such a large
creature, he was unusually silent, both walking and attacking. For a moment he watched the woman, cocking
his head to the side, as though he'd heard something unexpected, but as
she
attacked his kin he strode forward, using her distraction to his
advantage. His club flew side wards,
aiming to swat her away from her intended path.
Renissa jerked towards the attack as
it came, hearing nothing but feeling the change in air pressure. It was
too
late, however, and she couldn't stop herself or turn the attack, though
she
made an attempt at both. Her blades
went flying into the snow as the club impacted and she was thrown,
slamming her
shoulders and head into a tree. She
crumpled gracelessly to the ground as a dark trickle of blood began to
wind its
way down her neck. She moaned once,
managing to pull herself to her knees before falling forward into the
snow, her
world dissolving into blackness.
The silent ogre slung its club over
its shoulder casually, striding over to Renissa with two quick strides. He picked her up effortlessly and sniffed
her over, much like a large mastiff having found a dying bird. An odd expression again crossed his ugly
face before he tossed her over his other shoulder.
The largest ogre paused as he saw
that at least one of their intended meals had been dealt with. His
progress
towards the debris ceased and he moved instead to the snow where
Renissa's
weapons had fallen. He sifted through
the snow and picked them up, careful of the edges, as even such small
things
had proven that they could wound ogre flesh.
The fire crackled, spreading as it caught onto oil from a
shattered
lamp, making the idea of searching for the other man-thing unappealing. A mouthful of flesh wasn't worth a painful
scorching, not when they already had another.
He motioned to the other two ogres, turned, and as one
they headed back
to the north, their footfalls moving away quickly and leaving behind
only the
mournful howl of the wind.
Once the ground had stopped shaking,
Tyrin began to work his way out of the demolished lean-to, the heat
beneath
making it hard to breathe. He'd been
lucky enough to end up on the underside of one of the support beams,
which had
kept the bulk of other debris off of him.
Shakily, Tyrin eventually broke free of the wooden
wreckage, resisting
the urge to just stay there and allow fate to finish what had begun at
the
farmhouse. He had no sooner removed
himself from the destruction before he heard noises coming from the
south.
He turned with Renissa's knife
hanging limply in his hand and stood in shock as Mica and Guir came
casually
walking back into the clearing. He
shook his head, stunned at the behavior of the animals.
"Fat lot of help YOU two were." The
crackle of the fire and the reality of
the horses' presence seemed to shake off the haze of shock and made
Tyrin
realize that his guide was gone.
He looked over the trampled
clearing, noticing how much blood was on the ground.
The sight made Tyrin's stomach heave and he had to close
his
eyes, breathing hard and trying to keep from being sick.
After a few moments he again looked up,
realizing that there were no bodies.
Wherever the ogres had gone, they'd taken Renissa with
them.
Tyrin quickly dug into the debris,
remembering approximately where Guir and Mica's saddles had been left. While he had often ridden bareback he
doubted Renissa had and she'd need some kind of saddle.
He worked as quickly as he could before he
grabbed the reins for Guir as he hopped onto Mica's back.
There was only one thing he could do.
“Come on, we've got to go after them.”
He didn't dare think that she might be
dead. Tyrin glared at Guir.
“No complaining, or I swear I'll let those
things eat you too.”
The horses seemed to understand his
need for urgency and headed off to the north, following the tracks
before them
with little need for coaxing from Tyrin.
The ogres moved fast through the snow, much faster than
the horses did,
and Tyrin began to fear that he'd lose the trail before they slowed. Finally, though, the tracks branched off to
the east and into a vastly thicker span of forest.
The foliage had held back more of the snow here and the
traveling
became much easier, Mica's steady trot becoming near a full gallop. Tyrin worried about her injured foot, but
the horse ran as though she'd never been in pain.
When the forest started to pull in
closer to them, Tyrin stopped both of the horses and dismounted,
turning to
them. “You two stay here. If those
ogres come this way, run south somewhere and find yourself a good home.” He turned, ignoring their reactions and the
fact he was talking to them as though they were human, and headed in on
foot.
The walk deeper into the forest was
perhaps the hardest thing Tyrin had ever done in his life.
At any moment, the creatures could suddenly
appear from behind a large clump of trees, and then his life would be
over. But sometime during the ride he
had stopped trembling; his fate was what it was, and no amount of worry
would
stop that. The only thing that mattered
to him at this point was that, for him to survive beyond this trouble,
Renissa
had to be alive as well. Tyrin did not
know in what direction the town was; going back to Rebün was not
an option; and
he'd only survive a short time in the wild by himself.
Beside, if it weren’t for him she wouldn't
have even been here. It was his
fault. So on he walked, wary of each
noise as he followed the ogres' tracks.
Luckily it wasn't a difficult path to find or follow.
After what seemed like many hours,
Tyrin reached the source of the tracks and stopped, staring in absolute
shock. The forest broke away into a
sudden clearing and from the look of it, it had been a forced clearing. The trees had been physically ripped from
their roots and tossed to the side, some being used to make large,
crude structures
toward the center of the clearing. What
little underbrush had survived this mauling was then trampled by the
large feet
of the ogres, with only the most hardy or the luckiest still standing.
The three structures were of a sort
of lean-to, though a bit sturdier than a basic structure.
In the center of the area was a vast fire
pit roughly ten feet across and littered with bones of various animals
strewn
about in a way that could best be described as chaotic.
Tossed to one side and piled haphazardly,
various pieces of metal armor and weaponry of all shapes and sizes were
rusting
away, giving a chilling tale as to their former owner's fates. They were simply collected bits held as
trophies even when the ogres would never have use for them.
Apparently these ogres had vast
appetites and planned to make Renissa their next meal.
They had carelessly tossed her to one side
while treating the wounded one, the firelight showing the depth of the
damage
to his arm and a spot where a chunk of bone had been ripped free of his
elbow. The largest ogre was rubbing a
putrid gel into the wounds and scoffing as the smaller winced and
groaned. The third watched over the fallen
huntress,
an odd expression on his face, like a man faced with a quandary he
didn't know
what to do with.
Grimly, Tyrin gripped the short
dagger and steeled himself. He doubted
there was much he'd be able to do against the gigantic creatures, but
he was
just as dead without her; might as well have his choice of death. After taking a deep breath, Tyrin stepped
out into the clearing, leaving the safety of the forest behind him.
He'd gone no more than a few feet
before one of the ogres, the large green one, turned and saw him. Its face broke into a nasty toothy grin as
he turned to his compatriots. In a
deep, guttural voice, he rasped, "Heh.
Dinner comes to us for tomorrow." Tyrin blinked as the monster spoke. He'd always been under the impression that
ogres couldn't talk, or if they did, it was in their own language; the
fact
they spoke in the language of man made him realize that he might stand
a
chance, if he could keep them talking. Because if he stopped talking, he'd be dead.
"No, dinner does not come for
tomorrow; instead, I have come to take the dinner you have away from
you. You have no right to take her, and I
need
her." Tyrin paused in his advance,
looking between the three ogres and trying his best not to show any of
the fear
he was feeling.
The large green ogre paused, gaping
open-mouthed at Tyrin. "You...
speak? No hu-man before has ever spoken
to ogre. Not in long time.
And never in ogre language."
The wounded one grunted. "Want
me to kill hu-man, Gu-Ron? I want more
fight than being hurt. Is only fair." He hefted the large bone club with his good
arm and leered at Tyrin, making his blood go cold.
Gu-Ron snarled, swatting the smaller
ogre, "Calm yourself, Ry-Nat.
You no know what we dealing with here.
Mute, you watch Ry-Nat. He
move, you smack."
The dark brown ogre looked up from
Renissa and grinned an expansive grin at the order, obviously relishing
the
idea of smacking Ry-Nat around. With a
nod, Mute casually stood in front of Ry-Nat.
He crossed his arms and stared down at the wounded ogre,
as Ry-Nat
scowled back up at him. Ry-Nat did not,
however, make another move toward Tyrin.
Gu-Ron turned then and approached
Tyrin, the ground shuddering at the large ogre's approach.
Tyrin felt his resolve waiver a bit as the
gigantic creature came close, but to move would be folly.
He couldn't outrun the ogre, which was
obvious. Finally, Gu-Ron was within ten
feet and, without a word, unceremoniously dropped to the ground in a
seating
motion. Even seated, however, he still
towered over Tyrin by a good foot.
Gu-Ron studied Tyrin for a long
moment before speaking again. "So,
how you speak to us, hu-man? No hu-man
has spoke to ogre, or ogre understand, for long time.
Who you?"
Tyrin, confused, answered the
question he could. "Um,
Tyrin. My name's Tyrin."
"Um-Tyrin." Gu-Ron nodded,
seeming pleased with the
answer. "Is ogre name, then.
You small ugly ogre?"
Tyrin shook his head. "I
don't think so."
"Well, you somehow ogre
understand, or we you understand. Must
be ogre in family then, though you something awful scrawny for ogre... Why you want meal? Is
meal mate?" He
motioned over his shoulder toward Renissa's limp form.
"Better give good reason, or eat both
of you."
Tyrin swallowed a lump before he
answered. "She... She is a
sorcerer hunter, and she was hunting my parents. I
journey with her because the farm my family lived in was
destroyed, and I don’t have anywhere else to go. I
owe her my life."
Gu-Ron studied Tyrin for a very long
time, which made Tyrin extremely nervous.
Finally, when he spoke, his words were obviously chosen
with care, as
though he considered his question of the greatest importance. "She a magic hunter, yes?"
At Tyrin's affirmative nod, he continued,
"And she hunt your birth family, or you orphan, Um-Tyrin?"
"Um, birth family." Tyrin was
a bit confused as to the direction
of the questioning, but decided that truth was the best.
"My father and I were very similar in
our appearance, so there was no way possible I was an orphan."
Gu-Ron nodded, studying Tyrin
again. "So that make you child of
magic person." It wasn't a
question.
Tyrin shrugged. "I guess so. Is that strange?"
Again, the ogre watched Tyrin for
the slightest sign he was lying.
"No magic person can have childs.
You lie. You must lie." The ogre leaned closer, his putrid breath
filling Tyrin's senses.
Tyrin sighed, certain he was going
to die, but he continued on grimly.
"They had me when they were very young, and though they
tried again
after I was born, I had no brothers or sisters. But
they were my birth parents, and I saw with my own eyes that
they were sorcerers."
"Young." Gu-Ron nodded
slowly, his gaze sharp. Tyrin realized
he'd been wrong to assume
these creatures were stupid; likely, he'd not been the only one, though
many
others had paid a dire price for their assumption.
"Before the change come then. Could
happen. Very well,
Gu-Ron believe Um-Tyrin. Ogres
not kill child of magic person."
Tyrin could feel the relief almost
as much as he could feel the cold seeping into his bones.
"Then you'll let us go
peacefully?"
"I say ogres not kill Um-Tyrin. Say
nothing about dinner." Gu-Ron stood then,
and smiled a sly
smile. "You want dinner to stay
alive, must do ogre bidding."
Tyrin grimaced, wondering idly if
he'd be better off just attacking these creatures directly. The thought of doing things for these
creatures did not appeal to him in the least.
But, with Renissa's life at stake... he sighed. "What would you have me do?"
"You do nothing, for
now." Gu-Ron motioned toward the
camp and walked toward it, with Tyrin following behind, his brown
winkled in
confusion. The ogre picked up Renissa
and looked at her very carefully. He
poked her until she groaned, then set her down at Tyrin's feet. "You get her now, but Gu-Ron changes
mind. Both of you must do something for
Gu-Ron."
Gu-Ron sat down at the edge of the
firepit and searched in the folds of the hides he wore, pulling out
some
parchment that looked suspiciously like dried human flesh.
The parchment was rolled tightly and bound
with some form of twine. Without a word
he ripped off a section of it, the sound making Tyrin cringe, and
handed it to
Tyrin, "Marked on map is location
of ogre outpost. Go there, tell ogres
there that you must speak to Yu-Lot by my wish. They
give you no problem if you say Gu-Ron. Um-Tyrin
bring horses, Um-Tyrin leave on
foot." The last was said as a
warning, and Gu-Ron's smirk left no doubt in Tyrin's mind as to the
fate of the
horses if the ogres discovered them.
"That's it? You want me to go
speak to another
ogre?" Tyrin scratched his head,
taking the parchment with a second cringe.
In his hand the skin was supple and he tried hard to
ignore the natural
lines that resembled the folds of skin that might be a knee. "What is the significance of this
Yu-Lot?"
Mute turned and looked down to
Tyrin, and his face broke into a wide and ugly grin.
Ry-Nat guffawed loudly, then cringed again as Mute turned
back to
him and raised his fist threateningly.
Gu-Ron chuckled, his deep voice sounding like the voice
from a
tomb. "Yu-Lot king of ogres.
You not visit in two weeks, Gu-Ron hunt you
down and feast on your bones. Take
dinner, and go. Ogres must hunt
now." Gu-Ron removed Renissa's ulinar
from a pouch at his belt and tossed them casually in Tyrin's direction,
landing
them near his feet. "Take toys
too. Dinner will need them sooner or
later."
They left little room for argument
and at Gu-Ron's comment, the three ogres turned and strode out of the
clearing,
their footfalls quickly becoming fainter and fainter as they put
distance
between themselves and Tyrin.
Tyrin shook his head, still confused
about the whole ordeal. He looked at
the rolled parchment for a long moment before he folded it up as tight
as it
would go and turned to the effort of fully awakening Renissa.
Renissa opened her eyes momentarily
as Tyrin touched her before she closed them again, her world spinning
around
her. She'd been partially awake but
most of what she heard had made no sense, which lead her to believe she
was
hurt worse than she thought she was.
She groaned softly, trying to move and pull herself
together, though
each movement was an exquisite lesson in pain.
"Don't move if you can help it,
Renissa." Tyrin said as he
inspected her head gingerly, his touch making her yelp.
There was a massive lump on her head and
blood was oozing from it and one of her ears, and he didn't like the
sound of
her breathing. Though she wore thick
leathers as a type of armor, they weren't designed to stop the crushing
power
of an ogre's swing. He moved to where
he could help her stand if she would let him.
"I've got the horses back to the south a bit, we'll get
you up on
one of them and get you to some shelter."
"Not sure that not moving is a
choice... Gods, my head hurts." She gathered her arms up under her and
managed to get to her hands and knees before everything spun again, and
she
lost the contents of her stomach. She
lurched to the side before falling to the ground again and muttering. "This...is embarrassing."
Tyrin shook his head, trying to be
encouraging. "No it's not.
I mean, neither one of us is exactly
equipped to deal with creatures like that, you know.
Besides, being embarrassed is still technically alive,
which is
better than the alternative." He
knelt and helped her to sit up again and then lifted her to her feet. The Huntress bit her lip against screaming,
her eyes
tearing, though the moisture never touched her cheeks.
She stood very still, her feet spread a bit
too wide as she balanced, one arm holding her ribs.
When he was sure she wasn't going to fall
over again,
Tyrin picked up her weapons, holding them awkwardly as though he didn't
know
what to do with them.
Renissa stood with her eyes closed,
finally deciding that she wasn't going to throw up again even though
her
stomach still had other ideas. She opened her eyes, murmuring, "Sheath
the
weapons... in the harness I'm wearing... it's... easier."
Tyrin nodded, not entirely
comfortable holding the ulinar that had killed more people than he
wanted to
think about. He gingerly placed the
blades in the appropriate sheathes before he moved beside Renissa,
offering her
an arm for support as he did so.
"It's not a long distance to the horses.
Come on, lean on me if you need to."
Renissa took a deep breath, managing
to stay mostly upright. "Too slick... to do that much... or we'll both
fall." She bit her lip, using the pain to help her eyes focus. Right
foot,
left foot... she felt drunk, and it showed in her uneven gait and
weaving path.
"Again, it's not like we have
much choice. Though once we're far
enough out, I'll try calling for Mica and Guir. They
might get to us fast enough so that we don't have to walk
for too long." Gingerly, Tyrin
started to lead her out of the ogre camp, doing his best to tread the
balance
between speed and stability.
Renissa nodded slightly, quickly
deciding that the nod was more movement than her injured head needed
and went
back to staring at the ground. She mumbled softly,
"And then Guir will likely try to eat me."
"Horses don't eat
meat." Tyrin chuckled, trying to
lighten the mood a little. They didn't
talk again until they'd moved quite a distance away from the camp,
taking steps
as fast as she could handle. Tyrin
carried the map while he helped Renissa walk, though he did his very
best to
keep her from noticing it. Once the trees
thinned out somewhat, Tyrin whistled for the horses.
Not ten minutes later, Mica and Guir approached calmly. Without being bidden, Guir bent down on one
knee to allow Renissa easier access to his back.
Some part of Renissa's awareness
noticed the docile nature of the horse that had thus far tried to
injure her;
but the parts of her that were in pain demanded more attention and she
slumped
against Guir, slowing pulling herself up. She sprawled across his back,
closing
her eyes as the world spun again. "Ugh..."
Tyrin watched her for a moment, and
then dug through Mica's saddlebag until he found a length of rope. "Do you want me to tie you to the
saddle, so you don't fall?" While
he was digging though the scarce contents of the bag, he took the
opportunity
to shove the disgusting map inside. The
last thing he wanted Renissa to do was find it.
She jerked back away from him at
that statement, almost managing to fall from Guir's back, though the
horse
shifted for her movement. She dug her
nails into her hand to keep from passing out. "No! Don't..." Renissa
shivered, tangling her fingers in Guir's mane. "I'll be fine..."
Was that fear? Tyrin frowned,
but wrote it off to her
wounds. "Alright then.
I'll walk beside you, since I don't want you
to fall. Falling right now would be
very, very bad. I'm almost positive
you've got a concussion. You're going
to be riding for a few days."
Renissa squeezed her eyes shut,
resting her cheek against Guir's neck. "I'll be fine. Been hurt worse
before." That was only partially true; she'd broken ribs before, but
she'd
never been hit in the head this hard.
Even being kicked by Guir was preferable.
Tyrin chuckled, beginning to lead
the horses back into the woods.
"This time, Renissa, you're going to have to listen to me. I've had a concussion before, as did my
father a few times. They're nothing to
play with, and I can handle getting us to where we need to go as long
as you
can direct me." As he spoke they
turned back to the south, with Mica following along behind.
"Your father was another horse
hand?" Renissa tried to focus on the question, remembering something
she'd
been told once about head wounds and not sleeping until the pain came
down.
Tyrin shook his head. "No, he
never had much luck with the
animals. That was my job, especially
since they liked me." He knew he
had to keep her talking. If she could
make it at least an hour before she slept, she'd be that much better
off for
it.
"How'd you get..." She
drifted, not finishing the sentence as she leaned harder against Guir.
Her
eyelids were so heavy she could not keep them fully open, and there was
a red
haze around the edges of her vision.
"Renissa..." He shook her
shoulder until Renissa blinked
awake again, though it didn't last, her mumbles mostly incoherent. She slumped forward again against Guir’s
saddle and her eyes closed fully. Finally, Tyrin made up his mind.
He wasn't sure what he could do or even how
to do any of this "magic" that Renissa had been talking about; but
his parents had used it, and he suspected rather strongly that he could
as
well. He remembered the heat and pain
he'd felt at the farmhouse, and his parents had already been dead by
that point
of time. That left only one suspect…
Tyrin placed a hand on Renissa's leg
to stabilize both of them, even as she slumped further forward. Guir stopped automatically, as if sensing
Tyrin's intent. Tyrin closed his eyes
and reached into himself, looking for something, anything that might be
different than what he'd felt before.
For a few moments, Tyrin felt
nothing and frustration welled up.
Finally, a small tingle started in the center of his body,
but it simply
swirled around without direction. After
a bit of contemplation, he decided he needed to focus on what he wanted
the
magic to do, and he started to concentrate on just trying to push the
energy
from himself to Renissa. Suddenly, it
was as though something snapped inside of him.
There was a direct focus; nothing else mattered in the
world beyond the
immediate second. He could almost feel
something around him, being drawn into him and redirected into the palm
of his
hand.
Tyrin could feel the energy core
within him growing and expanding, flowing down his arm and into
Renissa's
body. He tried to focus on healing
Renissa's wounds as best as he could, picturing the skin knitting back
together
and the bump disappearing. His hand
felt warm, and tingling sensation tickled the tips of his fingers. His concentration broken, he stepped back
with a frown. Unsure if it had worked,
he looked up at Renissa, watching.
Renissa blinked slowly and pressed
the heel of one hand against her forehead. The world wasn't moving
quite as
much, though she realized that was because the horse had stopped.
"Mmm...wha? What were you saying?" Her voice was stronger and
steadier. While she was still obviously
injured, the level of injury seemed to have eased and her coloring and
breathing were much better. Tyrin smiled, following along as Guir started
walking
again. "That you'll need to stay
on horseback for a while until you're well again. It
might be a few days, so you'll have to point me in the
direction we need to go."
Inwardly, his emotions were
mixed. On the one hand, Tyrin was
elated that he'd been able to do something he'd never known he could do. And using magic was an euphoria, a sensation
beyond anything he'd ever known in his life.
But, on the other hand, from what Renissa had told him...
being a
sorcerer also made him the target of nearly every human in the land. His usage of it had so far been a single
time. Not exactly an experienced
sorcerer, definitely not enough to use it on command or to defend
himself.
Renissa returned her fingers to curl
in the fine mane hair of Guir, sitting up very slightly before looking
down at
the path beneath the horse's foot. "Need a mark as to how far we went.
Are
there... white stones? They'd be on the outer edge of... the path... if
we're
back to marked routes."
Tyrin looked around for a
moment. "I can't tell beneath the
snow, but our tracks will at the least lead us back to the way station. Once there, it should be fairly easy to get
back on track."
Renissa nodded fractionally.
"Just keep heading that way then...and hope our fire didn't burn out
everything."
"It didn't." Tyrin tried to
sound confident, though he
wasn't sure that he hadn't just lied to her.
He lapsed into silence as they continued toward the
wrecked way
station. The snow started to fall
again, gently, but enough to accent the silence of the forest as they
walked. In the distance the sky grew
light behind the clouds as the sun began to rise and somewhere behind
them,
eyes watched the measured progress and silent footfalls whispered
between the
trees. The Sorcerer’s Child: Chapter Five It had been a long flight for the large hawk,
but it
had not stopped to rest for more than a moment. Finally,
after a couple of days, the expanse of the southern
kingdom came into view. Below the hawk,
massive stretches of serfdom farmland spread from horizon to horizon. After a few miles of farmland, the city of
Möch-Rûn rose from behind the rolling hills.
The port city was a massive span of buildings, easily
numbering into the
thousands. In the center of the city, a
castle had been built and added upon over the years.
Now easily a tenth the size of the actual town, its gold
plated
towers could be seen for leagues. It was to this castle that the hawk was
flying and
with the goal in sight, he redoubled his efforts. Finally,
he angled downward, diving into an open window at the
far end of the royal entryway. He
stopped and took roost just on the edge of the window, peering down
into the
vast hallway before him with a critical eye.
A tall, portly man sat at the far end of the hallway with
his nose
buried in a book, the only current inhabitant of the hall. Sherim turned as the hawk landed, looking at
the
creature with a disdainful look. “One of these days you are going to
burst your
heart doing that.” His voice was precise and slightly nasal in quality,
and
silently he rather hoped it was a day soon. “His highness awaits your
message.
You're to join him the moment you've arrived.” Another look was spared
the
bird. “Though I suggest in a little more... appropriate... form.” “I rather doubt his highness would appreciate
seeing
me naked. Either he sees me in this
form, or you fetch me some clothes first.”
The hawk’s voice was gravelly and the sarcasm in his voice
dripped with
loathing. He spread his wings again,
flying down to a small stand near the entrance to the King’s chambers. Sherim glared back at the bird before he
moved to an
alcove and pushed back a panel. It had been prepared for just such
purposes and
there were loose robes within. Sherim tossed them at the bird's clawed
feet.
"Can you manage? Or shall I call a nursemaid to dress you?" “I’d prefer the nursemaid.
Something in a blonde.”
The bird hopped down and buried itself in the robes as it
spoke. A heartbeat later, a small man
stood in its
place, adjusting his robe to fit. He
tossed the hood back, revealing a sharp, pointed nose, a bald head and
sparkling gray eyes. “You can send her
to my room later, Sherim. I'd enjoy it
even better if she’s got a sister.” He
sneered, enjoying the revolted look on Sherim’s face. "I'm sure you would. You're a disgusting and
carnal man, Balar." Balar smirked.
“Perhaps you’d prefer if I send a stable boy up to your
quarters
then. I hear some of them are nice and
young, and tender to the touch. Just
how I’ve been told you like them.”
Chuckling, he strode past Sherim and threw open the doors
to the King’s
receiving chambers, stepping within. The chambers were massive, easily spanning a
hundred
feet in length. Golden tapestries were
draped across nearly every inch of wall space, and sconces with varying
golden
and silver candlestick holders were precisely positioned every six feet
along
the wall. The floor was an intricately
carved marble masterpiece, as were the multitude of stained glass
windows along
each wall. A platinum-embossed candle
chandelier threw the light into the room, dancing with the reflections
of
itself off of the gold and silver therein.
The rooms were designed to display wealth and power, an
intimidation to
those that would come seeking favor. King Dru glanced up at the opening of his
doors, his
position comfortable and lounging against the velvet of his throne. His silvery hair was pulled back behind his
shoulders and his face showed the wear of many years.
His eyes were sharp, however, revealing the intelligence
behind
them. He stood and smiled as he
recognized the figure in the doorway.
“Welcome back, Balar. I trust
you have good news for me?” Balar strode forward, dropping to one knee
once he
reached the foot of the dais. The robes swirled around him, much like
the wings
he'd born so recently. “News, m'lord. As always the interpretation of
it I
leave to your discretion.” He looked up, waiting for sign that he was
to
continue. King Dru nodded, gesturing for him to speak
as he
stood from his seat. As Balar spoke, the King started to habitually
pace while
he listened. His boots clicked on the
marble floor, the glittering dragon hide a sharp contrast to the
centaur
leathers that made up the remainder of his clothing.
His cloak was bright red and fell behind him casually as
he
walked. “As was expected, your troops found the
sorcerers and
encountered heavy resistance. Some few will possibly return, unless the
winter
storms find them first.” Which was more likely a circumstance should
the king
wish it. “The pair are dead... though I found a great crater at the
center of
the battle, and the sorcerers buried. Someone walked from the place
alive.” “A crater, with the two sorcerers dead. So unless another sorcerer showed up, the
rumor of a child is likely correct.”
King Dru stopped his pacing and turned his gaze out one of
the many windows
to look out toward the sea. “What of
the weather there? Did the storm hit,
or did it pass by? If the child
survived the attack, he might not have survived the storm.” “I flew only moments before it for much of
the first
night. By the second night, the storm had covered everything, but there
were a
pair of footsteps leading into the forest. It is possible he found
assistance.” “Assistance.”
He smiled, chuckling. “Surely
not from that band of thieves and criminals I sent there.
That fodder well knew they were there to
die, but it was better than our prisons.
No, they were there to kill, and would not have been
swayed by anything,
even if the sorcerer had anything to give.
So it had to have been someone else, someone from the
outside. “But who?” Dru
frowned, starting to pace again. After
a few moments, he turned back to Balar.
“What of the town? Could the
assistance have come from there?” Balar shook his head once. “No, Sire. Your
orders were
followed explicitly in the matter of Rebün. Nothing survived, not
man, woman,
beast or child. In that, your chosen forces took much glee. Whomever
joined the
child would have had to come from beyond the town.” “Good. At
least the fools got one thing right.”
He resumed his pacing then as his thoughts tumbled over
the
possibilities. “So best guess is a
Hunter then. No one else would
willingly follow an army on an attack of a sorcerer.” A frown turned the King's lips.
“That… complicates things, but it also makes
it easier in some ways. Send the word
out. This Hunter must have traveled to
get to Rebün, and the town was remote enough that anyone out of
the usual
traveling there would be news.” “And when they are located, Sire?” There was
a hint of
expectation to the question. “Find out which hunter it is.
Depending on the hunter, we may be able to
buy them off, or we may have to kill them to bring the child here. That may be the preferred option anyway, now
that I think of it.” King Dru thought
for a moment longer, then nodded. “Find
them, kill the hunter, and bring the child here. Use
whatever means you feel you must. And do
it quickly.” The
King turned back to the window then, his hand on his bearded chin in
thought. Balar bowed lower and then rose to his feet.
“As you
command, Sire.” He began mentally organizing the force to be sent out
as he
moved to the doorway, the King's silence a dismissal. It was another few minutes before the King
spoke to
the apparently empty room. “You heard
that, did you not?” A voice spoke in reply, a grating rasp of a
whisper. “Yes, father… but why bring the
boy
here? Am I not good enough for you?” The King waved his hand idly.
“You are my son, Ziguard, but as you are the
people would never accept you. The
Queen and I have been looking for this child since we first learned of
its
existence… bringing the child here will help you become whole.” He smiled toward the shadows at the far end
of the
room, where the raspy voice had come from.
“After all, what is a King without a Prince? And a kingdom
without an
heir? Now return to your room, Ziguard,
and sleep; the next months will have precious few opportunities to do
so.” * * * Tyrin and Renissa arrived at the demolished
way
station soon enough, and Tyrin used a combination of the remaining
blankets
from the way station and their bedrolls to create a crude tent for
Renissa to
sleep in. After some heated and
disoriented discussion, Tyrin finally had to bodily push Renissa into
it to
sleep, but sleep she did with no further arguing. The cloud cover had broken with the first
light of
dawn, signaling the end to the fierce storm and hinting at the
possibility of a
few days of slightly warmer weather.
Tyrin hadn’t slept at all since his short break before the
attack, and
knew better than to even try. His
adrenaline was still pumping from the discovery he’d made the night
prior and
it kept him antsy and excited. To calm
himself somewhat, he spent the better part of the early morning
collecting a
few more of the snow lily roots he’d shown to Renissa.
They’d be probably the best food for her
right now, given their situation and all.
And luckily, the edges of the forest nearest to the way
station had
enough of the small flowers around that he could pull a few of them up
without
worry about over-harvesting them.
Occasionally he glanced over to the makeshift shelter,
checking that all
was still all right, though he didn't know what he would do if she
didn't
recover. Renissa's sleep was not particularly restful
and she
tossed and turned between the surges of pain and nightmares that her
sleeping
mind didn't have the strength to fend off. As dawn arrived she jerked
upright,
pressing her knuckles against her lips to keep from crying out. Her
eyes
watered and she drew her knees to her chest, curling her arms around
them and
resting her head against her legs. She wasn't going to cry like a weak
willed
woman... the pain would pass, it always did, and she'd been hurt worse
before. At the noise of her sitting up, movement
could be
heard just outside the flap of the impromptu lean-to.
After a moment, a large horse’s head poked into the tent
and Guir
sniffed unabashedly, eyeing the non-herd.
A cold rush of air followed his entrance, immediately
removing whatever
warmth had built up overnight. The woman huddled closer on herself,
shivering as the
warmth fled. She looked up after a moment and blinked against the
light. It
took a moment for the shadow to resolve itself as Guir and Renissa
sighed
softly, muttering, “Decided to come and finish me off, devil-lips?” She
knew
the horse couldn't understand her, but the distraction helped. Guir snorted again, his ear twitching as it
touched
the fabric above their heads. After
another minute or two, he backed up and exited, the fabric swinging
shut again
behind him. Renissa sighed as the horse left, very slowly
examining the lump on the back of her head with her fingertips. It was
tender
and she stopped quickly. The scent of blood was also distracting and
worrying
to her. She needed to get cleaned up before it brought something worse
than
ogres looking for a meal. She was still
for a moment, listening for Tyrin or anyone else and hearing very
little.
Another soft sigh escaped her lips and she thought with longing on the
soft
beds and hot water at the Tabbard Tavern. If she didn't get killed
trying to get
there, she was going to lock herself in a room and refuse to budge for
a week.
With a great deal of effort she lurched to her feet, noticing that she
was
still wearing her boots, and deciding it was just as well. The world was unstable in her eyes, but not
nearly as
badly as it had been. Step by step Renissa made her way out of the
tenting,
squinting against the play of sun on snow as she looked for her
traveling
companion. She still had questions
about exactly what had happened between getting hit and waking. Tyrin could barely be seen toward the
northern edge of
the clearing, just in the forest line.
He was rummaging around along the ground, and Mica was
standing nearby
him. The horse was contentedly chewing
on something, though what it was Renissa couldn’t see from her vantage
point. Guir had moved off to the left of the tent
and was
staring impassively at Renissa. His
tail swished occasionally, and his ears dipped and weaved as they
followed
sounds from the forest, but other than those movements the horse was
still. After a few moments Renissa decided that the
standing
was a good thing, helping to clear her vision. She was still far from
complete
recovery, but it was a start. “Tyrin?” Tyrin looked up from gathering the roots, and
smiled. “Good, you’re awake.
Do you feel any better?” He
stood, wiping his hands on his pants
before he started walking toward her.
Mica took Tyrin’s departure as a sign she had free reign
of the roots
and immediately began rooting around in the snow near where Tyrin had
been
searching. “I'll be fine.” She rubbed the heel of her
hand over
the bridge of her nose. “We're going to need to move before they come
back.”
There was a moment's pause and she looked up, squinting slightly
against the
glare. “And... thank you. My brain is a little fuzzy still, but I get
the
impression I owe being in one piece to you.” He shrugged, but didn’t address the issue of how
he had helped her. “No one deserves to
be eaten. Most of it was dumb luck
anyway; I was just in the right place at the right time.
Besides, you saved me, least I can do is
return the favor.” He motioned south
with a thumb. “Think you’re able to
pull a full day today? We’ll take
plenty of rests along the way, especially since I’ll be walking.” Renissa tilted her head at that. “Walking?
Why?” She
winced slightly as her head reminded her that it didn't want to move.
“And I'll
be fine. I've managed with worse. Though we need to...” The haze rode
up in her
vision and she stubbornly pushed it back, taking a deep breath. “Clean
the
blood. It'll attract scavengers.” “I’ll be walking because of Mica. During our pursuit of that trio yesterday,
she re-injured her foot. I’ll have to
walk her for at least two more days to give her foot enough time to
heal.” He handed one of the roots to
Renissa, the
bulb a bluish contrast to the traces of dirt that still clung to it. “Here, eat this. With
your wound, the best thing you can do is eat, and this is about
the best thing we’ll have without using what rations survived the
collapse of
the way station.” She looked at the root, making a bit of a
face. It
wasn't as though she didn't eat off the land or hadn't eaten worse, but
the
idea of food was making her sick to her stomach without the help of
eating
something revolting. Reluctantly she broke off a piece and put it in
her mouth,
sucking on it for a moment before forcing herself to swallow. “You're
correct.
It tastes terrible.” “Eat what you can.
If you can only handle part of it, eat the tips of the
roots. They’re the best for you, followed
by the
part closest to the actual plant.” He
bent down, scooped up some snow, and handed it to her, which earned him
an odd
look as the snow cooled her hand. “Once
this melts, we’ll clean up the blood a bit.
I doubt there are much by the way of scavengers around
here, though…
with those three running around, they’ve likely eaten anything bigger
than a
fox.” “You'd be surprised what can escape if it
puts its
mind to it.” The huntress quietly ripped a piece off of the hem of her
under
tunic and wrapped the snow in it. She
moved over to a tree, leaning against it while pressing the cold pack
against
the lump. She felt stupid being hurt this way. There had only been
three of
them. Bigger than her and tougher than her, yes, but still only three.
She nibbled
on the roots. “We'll still have a few days to go. We won't be able to
reach the
next way station before nightfall.” “Then we’d better get moving.”
Tyrin turned to call Guir, but the horse had
disappeared. “Now where’d Guir get
to?” He looked around, spotting the
speckled stallion on the far side of the clearing.
He shook his head. “Looks
like he managed to find some of those flowers as well.
I’ll go get him. You just
work on that root.” “Go ahead.” She found a certain wry amusement
for his
gung-ho attitude. Given her druthers
she would have preferred sitting still for a while and properly
cleaning the
wound, neither of which was likely.
Renissa sighed softly, watching him go to get the horse,
and looked down
at the root. “I am setting rabbit snares tonight if it kills me.” The
comment
was whispered and she gagged down another bite, before shoving the rest
of the
root into the snow and covering it. It took Tyrin a few minutes to bring Guir
back, as the
horse was obviously relishing the roots he’d found and reluctant to go
when his
belly wasn't full yet. With a bit of
bribery in the form of already dug roots, the young man managed to
convince
Guir to stop grazing and accompany him over to Renissa.
The huntress struggled into the saddle and
focused firmly on watching Guir's ears while Tyrin cleaned up the rest
of the
camp. Finally he was ready to go as well, and he
started
walking beside Guir, who would occasionally glance at the man to see if
any
more roots would be forthcoming. Mica
followed along behind them, casually strolling along with only a slight
limp in
her back leg. Renissa balanced herself carefully, finding
that it
was easier not to get dizzy if she kept herself focused on the horse's
ears. A
part of her was just waiting for Guir to try to throw her, startling if
he
stepped out of stride. It wouldn't take much to land her on her head
again and
she wouldn't put it past him. The
horse, however, was acting unusually compliant and was making only
minimal
attempts to brush her off. He never
once seriously tried to throw her, and eventually she relaxed in the
saddle
somewhat. The first dozen miles were in silence, with
only
Tyrin’s occasional whistling to break the sounds of their footfalls. The day started to warm up considerably, and
the signs pointed to a quick melting of the majority of the snow before
the
day’s end. Already green and brown
patches of forest were starting to appear from under the white carpet,
and the
sounds of dripping water were increasing steadily. * * * Ry-Nat was the first of the ogres to return
to their
camp, a deer slung over his shoulder.
The ogre was obviously angry to judge from his stride,
especially since
he was used to returning with three or more creatures a night. One would earn him ridicule, but with his
wounds there wasn’t much he could do.
As it was, he’d lucked out that the deer had already been
injured by a
hunter’s arrow; it was simply the ogre’s good fortune to come along
when he
did, though the human had escaped. A few hours after Ry-Nat had returned, Gu-Ron
came
stomping back as well, four dead sheep in his arms.
He dumped the carcasses onto the ground beside the fire
Ry-Nat
had started and looked around. “Where
Mute? He usually first back.” “Dunno. Me
check.” Ry-Nat moved over to the hut
that Mute had built for his own and stuck his head inside.
He glanced around quickly before reemerging
from the hut. “Mute gone!
He take sleeping roll from hut!” “Mute not leave.”
Gu-Ron strode quickly over to the hut, sticking his own
head inside before
he was satisfied. “Hmm.
Maybe he do leave. But where?” He looked
around, thinking. “He was with us before we split.
Must have doubled back. But
where he go?” He walked around the camp
carefully, inspecting the ground with a
sharp eye. Finally, he clapped his large hands together
and
pointed to the south. “There fresh
tracks. Mute go south, after Um-Tyrin.” Ry-Nat scratched at his head.
“That make no sense. What
matter if human understand ogre? What
matter is human to Mute? Ogres got no
business with humans beside
eating.” “That where you wrong, Ry-Nat.
Human that can understand ogre possibly very
important indeed. Up to king whether he
important or food.” Satisfied that he’d
figured out where the silent ogre had gone, the large green ogre moved
back to
the sheep and began to skin them. “But why Mute follow human?
What he want with them?”
Ry-Nat also moved over to the fire, and began to gut the
deer. He sliced it open with one quick
slice of a
sharpened stone a third the size of a man and began to remove the
inedible
parts. “Mute different than other ogres. Not sure why he do what he do, but Mute have
idea. That good enough for Gu-Ron,
should be good enough for Ry-Nat. He
act strange whole time they here. Maybe
he see something we don’t.” He
shrugged, removing the last of the first sheep’s skin and placing it in
a pile
beside him before he grabbed the next sheep. Ry-Nat shook his head. “Maybe
he see way to have meal without Ry-Nat and Gu-Ron.”
Chuckling at what he believed to be his
associate’s cunning, he bent to the task of pulling the good meat off
of the
deer carcass. * * * The forest itself was starting to thin out
considerably as they neared the barrier between forest and grasslands. The trees here were considerably less dense
and the density of low-lying shrubbery was significantly higher. This meant that more small game animals were
likely to be about, making the possibility of fresh meat for breakfast
all the
more likely and tempting. Renissa half dozed in the saddle when she
could, her
efforts on keeping her head still. She'd walked with a broken leg
before and
never been so out of it. Head injuries were the worst of injuries, as
it didn't
take much to cause a large problem. As the landscape began to change
Renissa finally
looked up. “Mmm... water..." She
peered around the area. "We're
close to the lower crossing of the Tindel, I think.” She'd meant for
them to
cross higher, but many of her plans weren't going exactly as she'd
intended
lately. Tyrin frowned.
“Well, I’m afraid at this point, I haven’t a single idea
as to how to
cross. Is the river frozen enough for
us to walk across it, or will we have to break through?”
He placed his hand on Guir’s muzzle and the
horse whuffed at the man's hand before tossing his head to one side. Renissa listened carefully for a moment,
catching the
telltale sound of running water.
“Doesn't sound frozen at all. It didn't get cold enough to
freeze water
running so fast.” She steadied her hands on the pommel of the saddle,
pulling
herself further upright. “And the melting that's been going on will
make the
flow high. We need to get through the last of the trees to see where we
are.
Likely we'll cross in the morning.” She managed to get all of the words
out
without too much fumbling over them, which was an improvement. Tyrin nodded, hair falling into his eyes
until he
raked it back. “There will still be
enough light to travel for about four hours.
Should we stop once we leave the tree line, or continue on
a bit further
south and see if there’s a better place to cross?” The huntress tilted her head, continuing to
listen. “I
can't tell where we are. I need to see the river before I can judge.” “To the tree line it is then, and from there
we’ll
make the decision.” As they walked, the
trees began to thin out, gradually turning into a grassy plain as the
ground
shrubbery became thicker and more widespread.
Finally, the banks of Tindle River came into view, and
Tyrin’s breath
caught in his throat. He’d never seen any large body of water in
his life,
so even a river was a sight to behold.
Fifty feet across from bank to bank, the water within
rushed to the
southwest with a ferocity he’d never seen in water.
There was ice closest to the edges, but the rest of the
river was
free flowing and the banks on either side were covered in a mix of
brambles,
trees, and snow and ice. Tyrin glanced
up at Renissa. “I’m assuming this is
it, then?” Renissa looked forward, frowning at the rage
of the
river. “It is, but... we're too far south for the crossing I intended.”
She
pulled herself further forward on the saddle and slowly dismounted,
landing
gently despite everything. “There should be markers along the bank.
They're set
at distances along the whole of the river... Need to find out how far
we're off.” “Do the markers stand through the snow, or
are they
low to the ground?” Tyrin gave the area
a quick once over, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Low to the ground, but above the tide. Black
and
green...we should be able to find one.” “Right.” After
fifteen minutes of searching, they finally spotted one of the markers
imbedded
in the opposite bank. Tyrin pointed it
out to Renissa. “That one of them?” Renissa nodded slowly, moving over and lining
herself
up with the marker. She adjusted her position subtly and then tilted
her head a
little, apparently paying attention to something Tyrin couldn't see.
“We're
right in between the two fordings that are still going to be open. Most
of a
day's walk either direction.” Tyrin glanced to the west, where the sun was
about to
begin its decent on the other side of the world. “Should
we press on somewhat, and see how much land we can cross
before night falls, or would it be better to stop here?” “Move on.” She dropped very slowly to one
knee,
pressing her fingertips to the soil. “We'll need to move back from the
banks to
find anyplace stable enough to camp regardless. We'll
sink in this stuff and it will rot the horse's feet.” Before Tyrin could reply, a loud splash
interrupted
their thoughts. Tyrin turned and
shouted, “Mica!” The horse had moved to
the river to drink and the under-dug bank had collapsed beneath her. Though she tried, the river swiftly carried
the struggling horse downstream, threatening to drown her as she
attempted to
return to the shore. <Next> |