The Reborn King (Book Six) Page 3

Chiron looked sideways at him. “We failed.”

  “Ah,” said Lousis. “But today elf and human fight together, and it is our foe who now stares at defeat.”

  Chiron nodded slowly, albeit unconvincingly. “Of course. Please forgive my melancholy. The eve of our final march was filled with such hope as well. Needless to say, that hope was destroyed. I do not enjoy such reminders.”

  “I understand,” said Lousis. He turned to face the herald. “Sound the advance.”

  A silver trumpet rang out, its call taken up by others scattered about the ranks until they combined into a single harmonious note that pieced the air and called all to attention. For a moment there was quiet and the air was still. Then, like some massive behemoth from ancient legend, the army slowly lurched forward.

  The pace was little more than a slow walk. So many men and elves, together with wagons and horses, were not capable of moving with any great speed. And the roads beyond Althetan borders would be sure to bottleneck their ranks and slow them even further.

  Most of the morning had passed before the last wagon of provisions eventually pulled away. Spirits were high and songs of anticipated victory were sung as the vast army tramped off to meet its destiny. Gewey, on the other hand, was anxious. He was to wait at least two weeks before breaking off with Nehrutu and Felsafell and go his own way.

  Felsafell had warned him against using the flow, or even using his bond with Kaylia. The Dark Knight must believe he was with the army, and there was the possibility he would be able to sense Gewey’s location if he used his power. This restriction did not sit well and spawned several heated arguments.

  “The Dark Knight has never been able to know where I am before,” Gewey had insisted.

  “Perhaps,” said Felsafell. “But you cannot be certain. Melek knew where you were the moment he left Shagharath. He could feel your power. There is no reason to think the Dark Knight does not possess the same ability. There is too much at stake to risk discovery.”

  Eventually, Gewey was forced to relent. His last moments with Kaylia and Jayden before they left for Theopolou’s manor had brought him to the brink of collapse. Up until then he had kept in almost constant contact. And in the end it was Kaylia, not he, who insisted that it be done. They had both allowed Aaliyah to impede their bond. Though he could still feel her, it was dull and distant. Kaylia said that they must trust in the wisdom of Felsafell, for she feared that he was right. If Gewey failed, the world would burn. And, even more importantly in her eyes, the fate of their son rested firmly on his shoulders.

  Nehrutu leaned over in the saddle and whispered to Gewey. “I understand. I too feel the absence.”

  Clearly, Aaliyah had taken similar precautions with her own bond. At first Gewey had found it unnerving that Nehrutu could tell what he was thinking. Likely, the bond he had shared with Aaliyah gave him a keener understanding of Gewey’s mind. But as the days passed and he got to know the elf better, their connection was now becoming a welcome feeling of kinship to fill the void left by his parting with Kaylia.

  The rest of the day was uneventful. Mohanisi came forward twice to speak with King Lousis, then returned to the rear to march with his kin. By the time the sun started sinking beneath the horizon, the road was beginning to narrow. A few wagons on their way to Althetas had been forced to yield the road, and Gewey smiled inwardly at the traveler's dumbfounded expressions as they watched one-hundred and fifty thousand armed warriors go marching by.

  When they finally halted, Gewey and Nehrutu sought out Felsafell in the forest south of the road. It didn’t take them long before they ran across his camp. He had apparently anticipated their company by catching three rabbits and picking some wild onions. After the meal they relaxed by the fire while Felsafell regaled them with stories of the rise of elf and human. There was no need to turn conversation to serious matters. They knew where they were going, and there was no point in speculating about the perils they might face.

  Gewey settled by the fire and allowed himself to drift into an uneasy sleep. The world of dreams would be a lonely place without Kaylia there beside him.

  * * * * *

  Gewey found himself standing atop a tall dune and staring out at jagged peaks to the north.

  “Don’t go there. You will not return,” whispered a voice in his mind, but he wasn’t certain if the voice was his own…or was it someone else.

  He ignored the warning and willed himself closer to the mountains, secure in the knowledge that, in this place, he could come to no harm. At the base of the tallest peak, a tunnel had been carved into the living rock. As he approached, a blast of searing hot air sent him hurtling back. He touched his face. It burned. And the pain…it felt real. Many times before in his dreams he had been cut, bruised or otherwise damaged, but never once had he experienced actual pain.

  Fear knotted his stomach, but he was compelled to continue walking toward the entrance. A deep rumbling growl echoed from the depths just as he reached the threshold. Desperately he tried to stop, but his body would not obey his will. Once inside, all light vanished and he could feel a menacing presence watching him. Waiting for him to come to his doom.

  He tried to force himself awake, but it was useless. Something had trapped him. His fear increased as he kept moving deeper into the mountain.

  “Who’s there?” he shouted.

  The only reply was another feral growl. Then, peering at him from out of the pitch black, he saw two burning yellow eyes. He tried to reach for a weapon, but his arms were paralyzed.

  I’ll not die in a bloody dream, he thought, fighting back his terror.

  The eyes were drawing steadily closer. A sinister hissing sound raked at his ears. Gewey made one final frantic effort to wake himself, and this time the world of dreams began to fade. As if realizing that it was about to be denied its victim, the creature surged forward. Gewey caught a fleeting glimpse of a claw with scaly flesh and razor sharp talons reaching out to mutilate him. Then, in a swirl of color, the vision faded and he found himself back in the camp.

  Nehrutu was sleeping a few feet away. Felsafell was sitting close to the flames staring blankly into the night. “Your dreams were troubled?” he asked, without looking up.

  Gewey's shirt was soaked in sweat. He sat upright and recounted what had happened.

  “Perhaps you are having visions of the future,” Felsafell mused.

  “I hope not,” Gewey responded. “Whatever I saw inside that tunnel, it is not something I ever want to encounter again.”

  “I have heard stories of the beasts that dwell in the mountains north of the desert. Elves ventured there long ago, and only a very few returned. My people feared to go there, and I have never had the need to do so until now.”

  His words only fueled Gewey’s anxiety. He could still see the beast's yellow eyes in his mind, staring at him as if he were its helpless prey. The hideous claw reaching out for him in order to feed its ravenous hunger caused him to shiver.

  “There is no need to burden your mind,” Felsafell said. “Perhaps your dreams will reveal more before we arrive.”

  “I’m not sure I want to dream anymore,” said Gewey. “Not after that.”

  Felsafell smiled and tossed Gewey a skin of water. It was nearly dawn and they could hear the army beginning to stir. Gewey took a drink, then shook Nehrutu awake. After a quick meal of bread and fruit, they returned in time to greet King Lousis as he rode toward the vanguard of the ranks.

  The moment the sun broke the horizon, trumpets sounded and the march continued. Quietly, Gewey told Nehrutu and Lousis of his dream.

  “We have all heard stories of the fire lizards,” Lousis said dismissively. “That’s probably what spawned the dream. Old stories, nothing more.”

  Gewey nodded and forced a smile. “You’re right, of course.” At that moment he regretted telling the old king what he had seen. Lousis was marching into the heart of death and had more than enough to trouble his mind.

  Nehrutu, on the other hand, was
unable to hide his concern. However, he remained silent.

  “My scouts tell me that the road ahead is clear,” Lousis told them, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Let us hope is remains so. At least until we turn north.”

  “Let us hope so,” agreed Gewey.

  Chapter Three

  Lee and Penelope huddled by the small fire along with one of the three desert elves they had recently encountered. The few of these who had not marched west with Gewey were patrolling the borders of the sands and had discovered them just after they left Dantory.

  Lee knew that he was putting the desert dwellers in danger simply by being in their company, but he was relieved to see them nonetheless. The Waters of Shajir were weeks away, and his knowledge of the small oases that dotted the desert was limited to an old map he had acquired from a merchant. Though Lee believed the man to be speaking truthfully when he told him it was accurate, there was no way he could be sure of this until it was far too late to turn back.

  Samaal, a sand master in training, was sitting just across from Lee and Penelope. He was a good natured elf with a sharp wit and kind demeanor. He had halted his training until after the war was over and his kin returned. Though desperately desiring to go with the rest of his people, he had grudgingly accepted the charge of minding their land's borders.

  The other two elves, Talmiel and Mangri, were at present scouting the area. Rogue bands of Soufis who'd escaped slaughter had been seen in the area. Though as a people they were no longer a power in the desert, they were still dangerous and desperate enough to attack lone travelers.

  “We have been with you for three days now,” Samaal said. “I am wondering when you intend to tell us what pursues you. Truly, it must be dread incarnate if you brave the sands alone to escape it.”

  Lee hesitated and looked to Penelope. Her eyes were cast down and uncaring. Each day she had become increasingly reserved, rarely speaking a word.

  “I am ill,” he explained. “And I hope the Waters of Shajir will cure my malady.” This was true enough.

  Samaal scrutinized Lee for a moment. “And does your malady cause enemies to follow you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I am no fool,” he replied. “Though I have no doubt you wish to reach the Waters, you are also in flight. Something is giving chase, and it is clear you do not want whoever it is to catch you.”

  Lee nodded. “You’re right. We are being followed, and it is likely you are in danger if you remain with us. I should have been more forthcoming when we met, but I…”

  His voice trailed off. The truth was, he desperately wanted to protect Penelope as much as he could, and three more blades provided a much better level of security. He pulled her close, but still she did not look up or give any other indication that she was listening.

  “If you are in need of our protection,” said Samaal. “We offer it freely. There is no need for subterfuge.”

  “Thank you.” Lee bowed his head. “Perhaps I can repay your kindness one day.”

  Talmiel and Mangri returned a few minutes later, their faces twisted into scowls.

  “Wolves,” said Talmiel. “At least six of them. They are stalking us.”

  Samaal waved a hand. “They’ll not attack. There are too many of us.”

  The new arrivals knelt down beside them, hands on the hilts of their blades.

  “Their eyes glowed green,” said Mangri. “Just like the ones who attacked Darshan and Pali.”

  Gewey had told Lee the story of the monster wolves he and Aaliyah had encountered when the desert elf, Pali, was leading them to the Black Oasis. Apparently, it was a tale often told amongst the elves as well. Instinctively, Lee stood up and drew his sword.

  A single, long and menacing howl sounded, lingering ominously in the night air. This was answered by several others, their aggressive wailing seeming to come at the small group from all directions simultaneously, like beastly battle cries. Rapidly, Lee helped Penelope to her feet and pushed her behind him.

  He spotted the wolves just as they crested the dunes. They charged with astonishing speed. In complete concert, four of the six animals leapt for the throats of their prey - one at each combatant. The two others were moving a little wider on either side in order to get at Penelope. Lee ducked under the wolf attacking him, thrusting his blade up into its belly. The cut was deep, but the beast twisted at the last second, preventing the deadly steel from gutting it completely. It crashed onto the sand just beside Penelope, its jaws snapping and snarling.

  Lee seized hold of his wife’s arm and pulled her away just as another wolf came at them from the left, ready to deliver a lethal bite.

  Letting out a feral cry, he swung his blade down in a tight controlled arc, splitting the animal's skull in two.

  By now, Samaal had killed the wolf attacking him and was trying to stop the beast on the right flank from getting through to Lee and Penelope. Mangri and Talmiel had injured their foes, but in return had fallen victim to vicious bites - Mangri to his shoulder, and Talmiel to his upper arm. The wolf wounded by Lee was already regaining its feet.

  Just at that moment, another lone howl called out from the darkness. As if responding to this, the attackers immediately began backing away, all the time their glowing green eyes spewing malice as foam dripped from their dagger-like fangs.

  “What devilry is this?” hissed Samaal. “It is as though they are being guided by some sinister intelligence.”

  “Perhaps they are,” said Lee.

  He listened carefully. Three more wolves had joined the others. And there was something else. Four Vrykol. He quickly scanned the area, but could see nothing other than more rolling dunes.

  “Is there somewhere we can mount a defense?” he asked.

  “There is an entrance to the Blood of the Sands to the south,” Samaal replied while stripping off a piece of his shirt to bind his comrade’s wounds. “But it is at least half a mile away and leads straight into the vortex, so we could not use it. In any case, I doubt we could make it there in time.”

  Lee looked at his wife. Her eyes showed no fear, yet tears still streamed down her cheeks. She gave Lee a sad smile and reached up to touch his face as if to say that she was ready for whatever was about to come. He could hear the foul voices of the Vrykol in the distance. The wolves howled in response, then began moving to surround them again.

  “You three stay here,” ordered Lee. “The wolves will follow us.”

  “We will not abandon you,” Samaal shot back.

  “If we stay with you, we all die,” Lee told him. “And I will not have that.” Grabbing his wife, he threw her over his shoulder. “And I have no time to debate.”

  The sinews of his legs burst into life as he ran headlong for a gap between the wolves. The three elves set off just behind him, but split away and attacked the beasts closest, hoping to give him and Penelope more time.

  Lee could hear the elves engaging three of the creatures. The other wolves had paused and moved back, caught off-guard by the sudden aggression of their prey. But the Vrykol remained focused, and at once ran after Lee and Penelope, ignoring all else.

  He had covered only a short distance when Lee heard the sand scraping beneath massive paws just a few yards behind him. He waited until he heard the beast jump, then, sword still in hand, spun sharply around. His blade thudded into the wolf’s outstretched neck while it was still in mid-air, instantly killing it. At the same time, he was forced to step sharply and awkwardly to one side in order to avoid the creature's falling body. While recovering his balance he heard Penelope grunt, but dare not delay to see if she was hurt.

  The Vrykol were drawing near, as were two more wolves. But ahead he could now see the out cropping of rock and narrow entrance.

  Encouraged, he ran with every last bit of speed he could muster, all the time feeling the presence of his enemies closing in. Penelope gripped the back of his shirt, trying not to cry out from the rough manner in which Lee was being forced to handle h
er.

  Still running hard and barely able to pull up in time, he stumbled up to the entrance where his right arm rammed straight into the rock. Penelope was thrown off his shoulder and landed hard on the rocky path within. Lee twisted, slipping inside next to her. Ignoring the blood from the wound the jagged stone had just made, he raised his blade ready to skewer anyone who would dare try to follow them. But the Vrykol and the wolves slid to a halt, their gazes fixed.

  “You cannot escape, Starfinder,” called one of the Vrykol in a harsh gurgling voice.

  “We shall see,” spat Lee. He turned to Penelope and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

  She brushed the sand and dust from her dress. “Bruised and shaken, my love. But I can still go on.”

  Despite her assurances, he took a moment to examine her. There was a long cut on her left forearm and her dress was ripped in several places, but there were no serious injuries. Satisfied, he peered along the dark passage. It sloped gently downward for about thirty yards, then veered to the left.

  “Stay close behind me,” he said in a calm, even tone. He kissed her and smiled. “I’ll lead the way.” Lee sheathed his sword and drew a small dagger.

  The path twisted and turned for more than a mile, then began descending sharply, its suddenness very nearly causing Penelope to stumble over. Lee listened, his half-man senses penetrating the echoes of their footfalls. The Vrykol were indeed following, but at a cautious distance. Gewey had described the Blood of the Sands to him, and how he had traveled upon them. If the small round vessels he spoke about were there, they would use them to get away. If not, Lee would hold the enemy at bay for as long as he could. Of course, if Samaal was right about it leading to the vortex, then they may very well be heading to their death regardless. But it was a risk they would have to take.

  After another mile he saw a faint light ahead. The path ended in a cavern large enough to accommodate about twenty men. On either end was a tunnel connected by a broad strip of rough, dark brown sand. Lee stepped around his wife, picked up a pebble, and tossed it in. The sand instantly came to life, flowing and rippling like the water of a swift stream. Both of them stared in wonder for a moment.