Friday, April 27, 2012

Chapter 18: Fire From The Mouths Of Beasts

They traveled through the Griffinwood silently and carefully, but as quickly as they could. They wanted to draw no attention to themselves by possible Skraeg patrols, but were set on putting as much distance between themselves and Jarren as was possible. They knew he would be coming. For all they knew he was already on their trail. Kendrick imagined the Forever Lands wolf springing out of the shadows and taking down his horse, before Jarren, in a rage ran him down and ran him through.

"You don't believe Jarren would kill us when he caught up to us, do you?" Kendrick asked.

"No," Marek chuckled. "But as angry as he likely is right now, we may wish he did."

"That does not ease my nerves, Marek."

"No, I suppose it does not." Marek looked over his shoulder. "Nor does it ease mine." They continued riding in the darkness of the night, Kendrick holding the egg shaped light above his head to light their way. Sometimes they would hear a twig snap or the sound of something or someone moving through undergrowth, and Kendrick would extinguish the light as they held their breath for countless moments before deciding it was safe to continue. They were just cresting a small hill when behind them was a low growl. Startled, Kendrick and Marek both turned in their saddles, nearly crying out in surprise with their hearts in their throats. Out of the shadows of the trees came Runner. Upon seeing the big wolf, they were certain Jarren had caught them. They waited for The Hunter to appear, but when he failed to follow the wolf, Marek lowered himself from the saddle.

"Runner, did you follow us alone?" Marek looked beyond the wolf, still waiting for Jarren. Runner let out a whine and looked back the way he came but then sat. "You have to go back. Go on now, Runner. Go back to Jarren." But the wolf remained where he was. Marek returned to his horse and pulled himself back into the saddle. "Come on Kendrick, let's get going." And then he turned to the wolf once more. "You must go back to Jarren, Runner. He'll be looking for you." He eased his horse forward, motioning Kendrick to do the same. Again, Runner growled and stood. "What is it, Runner?" Marek whispered. But Runner only let out another long low growl, looking beyond the hill. "Put out that light Kendrick," he said.

"Do you think he's trying to tell us something?" Kendrick asked as the flame disappeared.

"I think so." Again he lowered himself from the saddle, and quietly made his way up the rise. Suddenly he threw himself to the ground, laying on his stomach.

"What is it, Marek?" But Marek quickly put up his hand for silence.

"Hssst!" he turned and placed a finger to his lips. Down below he saw a number of large shapes moving through the trees. He waited, holding his breath, trying to get a glimpse of what or who the shapes were as they moved concealed by the vegetation of the woods. Finally, one came into view. They were skraeg, moving in a south easterly direction. When they disappeared from his sight, Marek returned to Kendrick. "Skraeg," he whispered. "A dozen of them."

"What should we do?" Kendrick asked. His voice shook, unable to hide his fear.

"Let them pass and go on for a while," Marek answered. "After a few moments we'll head directly east." He then climbed back to the top of the hill, wanting to make sure they were not returning before he returned once more and remounted. "Come now, quietly. And no fire." He motioned once more for Runner to leave. "Go on Runner. Go back to Jarren." But instead of turning away when Marek and Kendrick moved forward, he followed.

"I think we're stuck with him," Kendrick whispered after some time.

"It appears that way," Marek agreed. "I suppose he was probably behind us the whole time."

"Well, now what do we do?" Kendrick looked at the wolf.

"I guess we should count our blessings," Marek answered. "If he hadn't warned us, we likely would have been seen by the skraeg."

"Are you sure Jarren didn't send him after us?"

"Not likely, Kendrick. If that had been the case, Runner would have alerted him." He opened a sack as he rode, and took out some bread and broke off half for Kendrick. "I think we should continue riding throughout the night. We'll take a short rest in an hour or so."

When they finally stopped to rest, Kendrick lowered himself from the saddle and stretched. A heavy fog blanketed the forest floor, rolling along the ground and between the trees like a thick spectral cloud, adding to the eeriness and nervousness both the priests already felt. It was dark and chill, and every sound was intensified, making the smallest whisper seem nearly a shout.

"At least it's not snowing, or raining, or cold enough to freeze us solid. Do you think it's safe for some light?" he asked.

"It may be." Marek nodded toward the wolf. "I'm sure he'll alert us if anything comes near." So they sat down and spoke quietly to each other about their lives, so they could know each other better. Kendrick cradled the small egg shaped fire in his lap. As long as he held it, the flames were safe and would do know harm. And while not burning wood, the flames were smokeless, so there was no fear of a possible enemy catching the scent and discovering them. The fire did however create enough heat to keep them both warm if they sat close together. "And I agree, it appears the One God is showing some mercy in this Long Winter."

"What made you decide to try the fire on your sword, Marek?" Kendrick asked.

"I don't know for certain," he said. "Perhaps— perhaps because I've already chosen my weapon." He lifted his sword scabbard for reference. "I did recognize the benefit of such a thing though. So I asked for fire for my sword and it was granted." He smiled. "It's a sight to behold as well, I think."

"It's certainly something to see." Kendrick smiled back. "If that doesn't strike a little fear into the enemy, what will?"

"Well I'm not the swordsman Jarren is, so I'll take all the help I can get." Marek laughed. "I still have much to learn about fighting I think—" A terrible howl in the distance cut him short. It was like the howl of many ghostly wolves, but with one voice. Runner rose and growled low, the fur on his back standing straight up.

"What was that?" Kendrick asked. The sound was frightening and Kendrick knew the fear was evident in his voice.

"A wolf I think," Marek said. His voice shook as well. "I've never heard a wolf howl quite like that though." Again the terrible howl sounded. "Perhaps we should put out that light." Kendrick agreed and let the flame disappear. But when they heard the sound once more, while sitting in total darkness, it made the howl even more frightful.

"Maybe we should be moving on." Kendrick suggested.

"I'm not sure I want to be moving about in the night with whatever made that sound. It seems to be quite far off, but I'd rather not risk it," Marek said.

"You think Jarren will rest until he catches us?" the younger priest asked.

"I doubt it, but maybe we've got enough of a lead on him to rest for now." He lay back with his arms behind his head. "We'll just rest for an hour or two. Enough to rest the horses, and ourselves, and be off again."

They only meant to close their eyes for a few moments. But exhaustion took over and they both fell into a deep sleep. Runner growled menacingly and they woke with a start. And then another howl, very close this time, brought them both to their feet. The horses neighed and jumped, wide eyed and threatening to break free of their lines.

"How long did I sleep?" Marek hissed, reaching for his sword.

"I don't know, Marek." Kendrick peered into the darkness. "I fell asleep as well!" He quickly moved to the horses, trying to calm them. Marek grabbed their belongings and the Sword of Jandrous before joining him. Together they whispered soothing words to the horses. They were able to quiet them, but their eyes remained wide, and their nostrils flared as they bared their teeth. Runner stared into the darkness, ears laid back and hackles raised. He growled, baring his sharp teeth. "Let's get out of here!" he whispered urgently to Marek.

"We don't know what's out there, Kendrick!" Marek countered. "Quiet Runner!" he then hissed. Runner made not a sound but remained where he stood, ready to attack whatever was out there. They stood there, holding the reins of their horses, watching the tree line where the big wolf stared. Then they saw the flames, a large torch perhaps, as something moved slowly through the undergrowth. They watched as the torch moved through the forest around them, appearing and disappearing between the trees and vegetation, drawing closer. Runner slowly turned as whatever was out there circled them. And then behind the trees, the torch stopped moving, and they peered uncertainly into the darkness at what appeared to be two large, green glowing, eye shaped orbs beyond the torch. A dark mass of flame and black fur suddenly sprang from the trees, leaves and branches exploding out before it, and entangled in two large twisted black horns.

"Run you fool" Kendrick thought to himself, but was frozen in fear as the beast bore down on them. The horses broke free and bolted, and Marek grabbed hold of Kendrick's sleeve pulling him along.

"Run Kendrick!" Marek shouted. Runner threw himself into a wolf like beast that was taller and broader than the largest of horses as the two priests found their legs and ran. It charged after them as they passed, ignoring Runner, but the big Forever Lands wolf attacked it again, forcing it to turn its attention away from the fleeing priests. "Runner come!" Marek shouted as they ran through the dark forest. The beast grabbed hold of Runner in its flaming jaws and flung him aside, continuing after the priests once more. Great flames escaped its jaws with every breath as though a blacksmith's forge rested within its body. It let out that same ghostly howl, and was answered by others.

"There are more of them!" Kendrick shouted as they ran. The two of them ran carelessly, recklessly, through the Griffinwood. Growth slapping and scratching them as they tore through the trees and vegetation. They could hear Runner snarling and growling as once again he attacked slowing down their pursuer. "What about Runner?" Kendrick asked.

"He's buying us time!" Marek shouted. "Just run, Kendri—" The ground dropped from underneath them and they felt themselves falling. And then they hit the water hard. Kendrick struggled to the surface, the frigid waters a shock to his entire being, and found himself caught in a raging torrent of a river. Snow melt filling and fueling the river sent him racing down stream. He turned and twisted and rolled as the waters carried him against his will. Frantically he searched for Marek and found him, miraculously within arms reach, but he was facedown. The thunder of the rushing waters was deafening and he could not hear himself call out to the older priest. He fought to get behind him and cradled him against his chest trying to keep his head above the water. For a moment he thought he saw Runner sprinting alongside the river, but the waters turned him about. and he could not spot him again. Swimming to the riverbank was an impossibility, the currents too strong, so Kendrick focused all his attention on keeping Marek's head above water. But the cold waters were quickly sapping his strength and despite his best efforts, his arms finally grew to weak to hold the warrior priest any longer.

"I'm sorry!" Kendrick shouted as he helplessly watched the raging river pull the unconscious Marek away from his grasp. "I'm so sorry Marek! I tried!" He watched as the river carried him away and wanted to weep. "This is all my fault," he thought. "All my fault." It would not be long, he realized, before the currents dragged him under and he would breathe his last breath underwater. His lungs would fill and he would die. "One God, forgive me," he said in his mind. "I tried, I really tried." His strength giving way, he found himself tumbled and tossed by the rough river, swallowing water with every attempted breath. He saw the large rock jutting out of the river a second before he hit it hard. The currents spun him around and his back and head slammed into the stone. He felt himself fading, losing consciousness, just as something massive snatched him out of the waters in a mighty claw. The sensation of being carried by the river was replaced by one of soaring into the sky, and then everything went black.

Kendrick woke to the sound of coughing, choking, and gasping for air. He lay on his back, and tried to rise to a sitting position. The pain in his head and back changed his mind, and he slowly turned his head in the direction of the coughing. A tall elf, blonde haired, and wearing leather armor and a dark green cloak kneeled beside a miserable looking Marek. He patted the priest on the back as he coughed and choked up swallowed water.

"We have to get out of here," Kendrick said weakly through chattering teeth. "Terrible beasts."

"I saw them," the elf said as he stood. He approached Kendrick and examined the back of the young priest's head. "You're going to be sore, but I believe you'll be alright. You have a minor injury to the back of your head. It could have been much worse. Do you feel ill?"

"No," Kendrick answered. "Just cold, and my back hurts, and my head is killing me."

"It may have killed you, had I not happened upon you when I did," the elf said. "I looked up from the other side of the river just as you both fell in."

"The sword!" Marek suddenly croaked.

"I assume you mean this?" The elf bent down and picked up the wrapped object and their packs. "You had them both in a death grip even as my griffin pulled you out of the river unconscious." He then looked up at the sky through the trees. "It will be dawn soon. You need not worry about the beasts. Walven rarely hunt in the day. However, there is a bridge nearby. We should cross it. If we must, we can cut the ropes and drop it into the river. The beasts will not attempt to cross through those waters. Can the both of you walk?" They both nodded and slowly rose.

"Did you see a big wolf?" Marek asked as the elf led them to the bridge. "A big Forever Lands wolf?"

"No, I'm sorry. I did not."

"I hope he is alright." Kendrick said. When they reached the bridge, they crossed and the elf pulled a small axe from his belt, ready to cut the ropes if the need arose. "

"I remember seeing you in Ravenhold," Marek said. "Hardis, correct?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for your help," Marek said. "We would both be dead now, if not for you. Where is your griffin?"

"He's up there," Hardis explained. "Keeping an eye on the walven. He'll find us shortly." The sky was beginning to lighten then, and Hardis turned to the priests. "I would start a fire, but I'm afraid we're not going to find any dry wood." Kendrick asked for fire, and set the small flame before them.

"Ask the One God for fire, and you shall be granted fire," Kendrick explained when Hardis's eyes grew wide. The griffin rider thought on it a moment and nodded his head with a smile.

"Amazing," he said. "These are interesting times to say the least." A moment later, Marek and Kendrick both stood and almost shouted in joy. Trotting across the bridge came a singed, but otherwise unharmed Runner.

"Ha! You found us!" Kendrick hugged the big wolf around the neck, as did Marek. Some of Runner's fur along his back was shorter and showed evidence of fire. But the wolf wagged his tail and grinned at the two priests as they showed him attention. He then lay down and rested his head on his paws. His tail was still wagging as he closed his eyes to rest. Shortly after, the griffin landed. Runner opened his eyes momentarily, but closed them again.

"I believe Runner has the right idea," Marek said. "But I think we should be moving soon."

"Where were you traveling?" Hardis asked.

"East." Marek said no more.

"Well east of here, the Griffinwood are crawling with Skraeg," Hardis told them. "West as well. I was scouting all their locations when I stopped to rest and found you. As soon as I and other riders take the news to E'eldaduranus, we'll make preparations to move on them. I would suggest you two come with me."

"I'm afraid we cannot," Marek said. "We must go east. It is very important."

"I'm sorry, but I would highly recommend you come with me. There are far too many skraeg about. As well, I would never have believed I would see walven in the Griffinwood. If you are on some mission of high importance, whatever it may be, it is better that you live to accomplish it late, than to die and not accomplish it at all."

"Maybe he's right," Kendrick sighed. "We lost our horses too, Marek. Perhaps we can find a way through after we've gone to E'lda—"

"E'eldaduranus." Hardis finished for him. "Elven Home in your tongue, if that helps." Kendrick nodded. Marek looked long at Kendrick, and then nodded his head in agreement. Hardis then moved to the griffin, and after searching through his bags, produced two wool blankets. He handed one to each of the priests. "You should get out of those wet clothes. Wrap yourselves in these while they dry."

"Well, we're off to a great start," Marek said with a tone of sarcasm.

"Story of my life since I left Danir, Marek." Kendrick tossed a small stone into the trees in frustration. "Story of my life."



"Two horses carrying riders, and one Forever Lands Wolf," Tia said, kneeling by the prints. "They came this way." She remounted Silverprince, her roa'an, beside Jarren. The sun was just beginning to chase away the darkness of the Griffinwood, but it did little to warm the day or Jarren's spirits. Sunlight, after so many gloomy, cold, wet, and snowy days would have been a very welcome sight. But Jarren was concerned only with finding the priests, the wolf, and of course the sword.

"We've been traveling all night, Jarren." Arden moved his horse alongside The Hunter's. "We should probably rest."

"How old do you deem the tracks, Tia?" Jarren asked.

"I believe they have at least a three hour lead on us, Jarren," she answered.

"We'll rest for three hours then," Jarren said. "They'll likely have rested as well at some point. And I want to continue the search while we have light. I think we'll find them before dusk."

"You don't mean to hurt them, do you?" Kieran asked.

"Hurt them?" Jarren shook his head. "No, of course not. I would be lying, however, if I were to say I didn't want to. What they've done is foolish, and reckless. And to think, Runner didn't warn me. Marek will get his punishment, when next we spar. As for Kendrick and the wolf, I don't know."

"Hsssst," Tia whispered harshly. Tia and Arden heard the sound a moment before the others. She dismounted once more and stepped up a small hill. Jarren followed, along with Drogan and Arden. Tia pointed. In the distance, marching through the trees of the Griffinwood, was an army of skraeg warriors. Drogan's eyes grew wide at the sight of them.

"The same that attacked Ravenhold, I would think," Drogan said.

"Or another army. I'm sure they want to keep Ravenhold well defended," Jarren replied. "Regardless, let's get down and out of sight. Anyone needing sleep, sleep now. We should take our turns at keeping watch as well." Their rest was undisturbed however, and after a few short sleeps, they all ate before resuming their tracking the woods for Marek and Kendrick. Although they had to stop twice more and hide as large groups of skraeg marched by, it was not long before they found the location of the two priest's camp. Tia looked about the ground, concerned.

"I believe there was trouble here," she said. "Marek and Kendrick's prints go eastward and they were running. Their horses ran north. And look," she continued while motioning for Jarren to take a look at the tracks. He dismounted and stood beside her while she kneeled before a large print. "Wolf like, but much larger."

"Walven—" Jarren whispered. " Two of them. And it appears Runner tangled with them before they all ran east— Marek, Kendrick, and Runner, with the walven on their heels."

"Walven?" Drogan asked.

"Huge, wolf like creatures from far to the east," Jarren answered. "That they're this far west is strange."

"I know what they are," Drogan replied. "But I never thought they were real. I thought they were just stories."

"They are very real, Drogan," Tia said. "And very dangerous. This bodes ill for our friends, if they had an encounter with them."

"It's obvious they did have an encounter with walven." Jarren was grim, shaking his head.

"Should we try and find their horses?" Faldrek asked. Jarren thought a moment and then nodded.

"Yes. Two of us can. But don't go far, and keep a wary eye for skraeg."

"Then Faldrek and I will do so," Drogan said. As they rode away, Jarren, Tia, and Arden studied the ground for more clues. They all came to the conclusion that Runner had put up a fight while the two priests made their escape. Jarren followed the tracks a short distance before coming to a stop. Marek and Kendrick's tracks stopped abruptly where the ground dropped sharply. Below, the waters of a river raged. His eyes went wide.

"They fell here," he whispered. Runners prints continued south, and he followed them until finding an area where it was possible to go down to the river's edge. There, Runner's prints seemed to sprint alongside. Stopping a few times more, where it appeared the Forever Lands wolf again encountered the walven. Occasionally another set of walven tracks would join the others. In all, it appeared there were at least four of the beasts pursuing the two priests. At one point the walven gave up their pursuit, and Runner had continued following the river. Jarren returned to the others. "I'm afraid Kendrick and Marek were washed down river." Kieran read the grim look on Jarren's face.

"Do you think they're—" She could not bring herself to finish the question, but Jarren understood.

"I do not know," he answered. "But the river is angry with snow melt. Their tracks led to a drop and ended there. I have no doubt they fell into the river's rushing waters."

"And Runner?" Tia asked.

"By his tracks, I would assume he ran along the river's edge, trying to pursue them," Jarren said. "He tangled with walven a few times, and then continued along the river again. I believe there were at least four of the beasts. It appears they gave up the chase."

"Dawn was near?" Arden asked.

"Likely," Jarren answered with a nod.

"What has dawn to do with anything?" Kieran asked.

"Walven tend to dislike daylight," Tia answered her.

"Nor do they like water," Jarren added. "If Marek and Kendrick made it to the other side of the river, by any chance, they would be safe."

They rested while waiting for Drogan and Faldrek who returned shortly, each leading a second horse, those lost by the priests when they bolted in fear. Arden informed the two soldiers of Jarren's finds, and they all ageed they should continue in haste to find the two priests. All expected the worse, and Kieran forced back tears, thinking the only condition they would find the priests, if they found the priests, was dead and drowned.

"How could anyone survive falling into that?" Kieran looked to the river below. The snow melt had turned it into a thunderous torrent with churning white waters. Anything caught in the river's journey south, quickly disappeared, so fast did it travel. The others stood beside her, all shaking their heads and assuming the worst.

"Another question is," Jarren wondered aloud. "If we find them, will the sword still be in their possession, or is it lost somewhere at the bottom of that river?"

"And what if it is not?" Kieran turned on him in anger. "Should we not worry about the sword right now, and worry instead for Kendrick and Marek? They could be out here in these cursed woods somewhere, hurt, or worse!"

"If they had not taken the sword to begin with," Jarren turned to her. "They would not have found themselves in whatever situation they may be. Instead they crept out of camp like thieves, taking the one thing that may someday end this Long Winter."

"Kendrick is hardly a thief," Kieran said angrily with her hands on hips. "If he took the sword, he must have felt he had good reason."

"That does not change the fact that the sword was entrusted to me by King Erehk, and they took it despite that fact. They took it from my possession, and now we find ourselves hunting them down, and wondering if the sword is lost, or even worse, in enemy hands!" Jarren nearly shouted. "They should not have taken it. I told Marek the sword stays with me."

"Well they did take it," Kieran shouted. "And perhaps you should show some concern for them as well as that cursed sword!"

"Do you not understand the importance of that blade, woman?" The Hunter's tone grew menacingly quiet, and he fixed her with an icy stare. "If we lose that sword, and are not able to put it in Jandrous' own hands, everything is lost." He turned toward their mounts, but stopped and turned to Kieran once more. "Do not presume, woman, that I have no care for the two priests. You would do well to mind your tongue and question me like this no more." After pulling himself into his saddle, he motioned for the others to do the same. "We should be able to follow Runner's tracks," he said. "With hope, perhaps they will lead us to Marek and Kendrick."

Jarren's assumptions proved correct, and after following the wolf's tracks along the river, they found the tracks of three persons as well as a griffin. All but the griffin, had left on foot moving south.

"Well, at least we can be certain the two survived," Tia said. "It appears Runner did not stop but passed right through here. He was still following them."

"I would assume they met a griffin rider and are in his company now," Arden added. "That's good news."

"Agreed," Jarren nodded. "Let's move on." He rode off with the others following single file. They found where the priests, griffin rider, and wolf had crossed the bridge to the other side, but the bridge had been cut down. The river rolled and thundered through the narrow canyon below them. Jarren dismounted and walked away from the others for a moment, clearly agitated. He paced back and forth and clenched a fist. Finally he stopped and returned to stand before Arden. "How likely is it that there is another bridge nearby?"

"It's doubtful, Jarren." Arden answered. "The next bridge could be half a day's ride, or two or three day's ride from here."

"Any villages or settlements?"

"I believe there is one— but it would be on the other side of the river. The next closest, would be at least a day's ride south. This far north in the Griffinwood, settlements are scarce."

"I think we better pray the next bridge is not so far away then," Jarren said. "We're on the side of the river with a small pack of walven somewhere nearby."

"No time to rest then," Arden said. "We should be moving, and quickly." Jarren looked across the gap to the other side once more, clenching his teeth. Then he nodded, remounted, and led the party south. They would ride until they found a way across the river, he decided. He wanted to avoid the walven, and the skraeg at all costs. The traveled south for the remainder of the day looking for another way across the river, but as the day turned to evening, and the shadows grew larger, Jarren finally brought everyone to a halt.

"We'll rest the night," he said, shaking his head. "We'll continue on as soon as there's enough light tomorrow." Everyone slowly eased out of their saddles and began making camp. They decided not to build a fire. It would be to difficult, due to the dampness, and they wanted to remain unseen. "The walven are likely out there somewhere," Jarren said. "As well as skraeg. Let's not draw any unwanted attention to ourselves if possible." The rest agreed, and they huddled together for a short meal of dried meats and fruits, and then they decided who would take first watch for the night. And as the others slept, Drogan and Jarren stayed awake, quietly searching the trees around them, as they sat upon a hollowed out tree trunk. As they listened for anything that may be suspicious, Drogan wondered on many sounds in the night. Jarren quickly explained each one— a fallen branch, a bobcat, a deer, a night hawk taking flight. Every time a sound reached their ears, The Hunter had a name for it and Drogan assumed he was probably correct. One just did not question someone like Jarren on such things. Not only because of his legendary status, but also because the man was so matter of fact, so certain, one just had to believe it to be true. Drogan closed his hand around the lock of hair Annyaa had given him, feeling the softness of it between his fingers.

"You're wondering if it's wise to fall in love in such a time as this," Jarren observed.

"Is it that obvious?" Drogan asked.

"She's a good woman, I think," Jarren said. "Very frightened, and feeling very vulnerable, but I understand she's been through quite an ordeal. She reminds me of another woman. She's strong willed under normal circumstances, has some fire in her I would guess."

"She does," Drogan chuckled. "Annyaa throwing an empty flagon at Andorin, back in Misting Hill, is what started this whole ordeal for the two of us." He closed his fist tight around her hair. "She's stronger than she knows. So, what do you think? Is it wise?"

"I think you're a fool," Jarren answered. Drogan looked at The Hunter sharply, but held his tongue when he saw a small smile turn the man's lips. "But love will turn the wisest of men into blithering idiots. As for falling in love in such a time as this, the real question is— is there ever a time in one's life that falling in love is a wise decision? Probably not. Love isn't bound by circumstance. It can happen and will happen, whenever it happens whether we want it to or not. I would say it is foolish to allow yourself to fall in love in these days. Thinking about a loved one can get you killed when in a dangerous situation. But then, I would say you were a bigger fool if you didn't allow it. It can bring strength when you feel weak. It can give you something to live for when you feel you just want to give up and die."

"So tell me," Drogan smiled. "Has the legendary Jarren The Hunter ever been as foolish as I am then?"

"Oh, I'm beginning to think I may be the biggest fool of all." He looked over his shoulder at Kieran, sleeping soundly on her side on the cold ground. "I know nothing about her, we've barely spoken to one another, and our last conversation was in anger. You tell me, Drogan. What kind of fool am I?"

"Talk to her, Jarren. Get to know her. And if you allow yourselves to love, I'd call you the wisest of fools." They both laughed quietly, but then resumed their silence as they listened to the sounds of the Griffinwood. A couple hours passed, and they decided it was time to wake Faldrek and Arden for their turn at watch. They had just stood when Jarren stopped Drogan short with a hand on his shoulder. He put a hand up for silence and canted his head. And then they both heard the ghostly howl. It sent a shiver up Drogan's spine.

"What in the One God's name was that?" he asked.

"Walven," Jarren answered grimly. Three more howls from different locations, but all to their north, answered the first. "They're north of us."

"How close are they?"

"Two miles perhaps." They heard the howls again.

"Do you think they're coming this way?" Drogan asked. He had already drawn his sword.

"Not certain yet," Jarren answered. "Wake the others, just as a precaution." Jarren faced north glaring through the trees, listening intently as Drogan moved amongst their companions. Quietly, he woke each one, cautioning each to remain silent. Arden and Faldrek moved to the horses, intending to keep them calm.

"Tia?" Jarren asked. "What does the roa'an tell you?"

"They're coming this way," she answered.

"What should we do?" Kieran asked, visibly shaken by the terrible sounds. They howled again and Tia turned her head, her keen elven ears honing in on the sounds. She looked to Arden.

"They're definitely coming this way," he agreed. Already, he and Faldrek were having a hard time controlling the mounts, and Drogan moved to help them. Only the roa'an remained calm.

"We ride," Jarren said. "With hope we'll find a bridge. Tia, Arden, you should take the lead, you have the best eyes for it." Quickly they mounted and began traveling south along the canyon, the river still churned angrily below them on their left sides. They stayed close, with Arden and Tia leading them as quickly as they dared through the dark wood. Drogan and Faldrek took the rear, leading Marek and Kendrick's horses behind. The howls repeated, each time sounding nearer. The riders could feel the tension of their horses, and the horses could sense the tension of their riders. They all looked nervously over their shoulders with each call of the great beasts, expecting them to appear behind them at any moment.

"I'm afraid," Kieran said, pulling her horse alongside Jarren.

"Stay close to me," he replied. "Whatever happens, don't stray from the rest of us. Understood?"

"Yes," she answered. "I have no weapons."

"Hopefully you won't need one." He answered. Again and again, the howls sounded, and with each ghostly call, Arden and Tia seemed to speed up the pace. Drogan and Faldrek drew their blades.

"Now may be a good time to tell us what to expect from these things, Jarren." Drogan said.

"They're fast when they attack," Jarren said. "Stay away from their bite, and away from their fire— and they're very strong and very large."

"How large?" asked Faldrek.

"Larger than the horse you ride, Faldrek," Jarren answered. Faldrek and Drogan looked down at thier horses, and then at each other, and then over their shoulders. Faldrek's eyes grew wide.

"And mind their horns as well," Jarren added.

"Horns as well?" Faldrek asked. "I'm beginning to think I'd rather face down a dragon."

"I wouldn't recommend that either." Jarren said. The howls grew louder, and once more Tia and Arden hastened.

"They come." Silverprince sent his thoughts to Tia.

"I know, my roa'an." Tia turned back in her saddle. "They are very near," she said.

"Ride!" Jarren shouted, and Tia and Arden set their mounts to a full gallop. "Ride!" shouted Jarren again, urging everyone to follow the two elves. Drogan risked a backward glance and saw what looked like balls of flame dancing between the trees. He kicked his heels hard into his chargers flanks, following close behind the others. The horses thundered through the trees, the roa'an leapt and sprinted and danced, leading the way over and around obstacles. Over the drumming of their hooves could be heard the snarls and growls of the pursuing beasts as they plowed through the trees and vegetation. Their powerful legs drove them ever nearer the companions with every stride. Kieran bent low in her saddle and simply held on for dear life. She knew not if she was leading the horse, or the horse was simply running with the herd. She saw a hand on her reins— Jarren's hand as he rode along beside her. His reins were untouched as he held his sword in the other hand and led his horse with his legs. Drogan looked over his shoulder again at the walven. He could see shapes, massive wolf shaped shadows bounding through the trees, great puffs of fire escaping their throats with every breath. Four of them, he counted, and huge.

"We cannot outrun them!" Drogan shouted.

"Ride!" Jarren yelled.

"Bridge!" Tia and Arden shouted simultaneously.

"It's about time!" Faldrek screamed from the rear.

Tia and Arden hit the wooden planks of the bridge first. It was another rope bridge, wide enough to ride two abreast, and the two elves hurried to reach the other side as they quickly readied their bows. Jarren smacked the flat of his blade against the rear of Kieran's horse when they reached the bridge, sending her ahead. He turned to see Drogan and Faldrek leap off their own horses sending them and the two in tow galloping across the bridge, just as the first walven leapt for them. The two soldiers of Grey Home scrambled out of the way at the the end of the bridge as the great beast nearly bowled them over and into the river below.

"The bridge Jarren!" Drogan shouted. "The bridge!" He and Faldrek struggled to keep their distance as the beast swung it's great horns at them, and let loose a great burst of flame from it's jaws. Faldrek jumped to the side and slammed his sword into the creatures throat, and the flames exploded from the wound. Faldrek threw up his arms to protect himself from the fire, as Drogan thrust his sword into the beast's side. He shielded his face and jumped back as fire erupted from the wound. The other three walven reached them just as the first fell dead. Jarren turned and raced for the other side as arrows whistled by him from Tia and Arden's bows.

"Arden!" The Hunter shouted. "Be ready to cut the rope!" He leapt off his horse and stood by a post, ready with his sword. The arrows had slowed the remaining three walven, and Drogan and Faldrek sprinted across the bridge. The beasts hesitated only a short moment and then gave chase.

"Cut the ropes!" Drogan shouted as he ran. "Cut the cursed ropes!" Jarren and Arden hacked at the ropes with their blades— Drogan and Faldrek leapt— the ropes gave way and the bridge fell. They hit the other side hard. Faldrek nearly fell, but Jarren grabbed him by an arm and his belt and pulled him the rest of the way up. The three remaining walven gave one last ghostly howl as they fell to the river below. "Arden, I understand this is your homeland," Drogan said. "So please forgive me when I tell you I hate the bridges in the Griffinwood. They've given me nothing but trouble." Arden laughed as he helped Drogan to his feet.

"But if this bridge had not been here, Drogan," Arden countered. "What shape would we be in now?"

"Point taken." Drogan said.

"I took some bad burns to my arms, Drogan." Faldrek said as he inspected himself. He winced from the pain. "I'm going to need something for them."

"Let me take a look at them," Kieran said. She inspected his burns and started digging through a pouch at her belt. "I can make something. It will ease the pain and help the burns heal. I'm afraid there will be some scarring."

"They wouldn't be my first scars," Faldrek said. "I have many more."

"What were those things?" Kieran asked. Her voice trembled as she sat down and pulled a small wooden bowl and pestle. "And could someone bring me some water please?"

"Walven," Tia answered, as she handed her a water skin. "They were once friendly animals, intelligent like the roa'an. But at the time of Jandrous slaying they chose the side of Xandrous and were cursed by the One God. Now they are evil beasts, bent on destroying all those loyal to the son of the One God. They can smell the blood of Jandrous on those who follow him and will hunt them down relentlessly. They are savage creatures."

"I'm not sure if I should call the two of you very brave or very foolish," Jarren smiled at Faldrek and Drogan. "But holding them at the other side of the bridge, likely saved us all."

"I thought we had already made it clear that I, at least, am a fool." Drogan smiled. He then canted his head toward Kieran who was grinding a wet substance in her bowl. "As are you, Jarren." Jarren followed the young warrior's gaze and took a deep breath before moving to stand before Kieran.

"I want to apologize for how I spoke earlier, Kieran," The Hunter said. "I meant no disrespect toward Marek, or Kendrick whom I know is your friend." Kieran stopped grinding in her bowl and looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I still believe they were foolish for their actions," he continued. "And although I know Kendrick very little, I believe Marek is an honorable priest. I'm sure Kendrick is as well. That Runner left with them as opposed to warning me, speaks volumes. If I don't understand why they did as they did, I suppose I should at least trust the wolf's judgment. What happens to them is important to me. But I worry greatly, as well, of what may happen if we lose that blade." The tears were rolling freely down Kieran's face as she listened to Jarren. "I can be stern, and I can be a hard man, and like anyone, I can also allow foolish words to issue forth from my tongue when I am angry. Please forgive me, Kieran." He stood there waiting for her to speak, but when she said naught, he turned to leave her.

"Thank you," she whispered and he turned. "Forgive me as well." Jarren nodded to her and then walked away.

"Well, at least it's a start," Drogan said as Jarren came beside him. Together they began checking the legs and hooves of the mounts. They had been ridden hard, and they wanted to be certain they were not injured.

"I felt like a fool," Jarren said.

"You said it, not I." Drogan chuckled.

"What is this?" Kieran asked Tia, as the e'eld woman sat beside her and handed her a silvery colored moss. It was cool and soft to the touch.

"It's called silvermoss," she answered. "It grows in abundance here when it's damp and cool, and will greatly hasten the healing process." Kieran thanked her and Tia continued. "Are you alright?"

"I've never been so frightened in all my life," Kieran answered and brushed away her tears. "I was certain those things were going to catch us."

"They nearly did," Tia said. "But they failed." She smiled and placed a hand on Kieran's shoulder. "I was afraid as well."

"Ha!" Faldrek laughed. "I believe we were all frightened. Terrible beasts those. I pray I never come face to face with one again."

"Were you?" Kieran asked him as she began spreading her concoction on his arms.

"I think I heard myself scream like a girl child!" He exclaimed as Kieran put some of the silvermoss on his burns. "Those were creatures of the worst nightmares."

"You and Drogan were very brave, Faldrek." She smiled at him while wiping away more tears. She then found some clean white linens in her pack which she tore into long thin strips and began wrapping his arms. "Thank you both, for what you did." He nodded in return.

"Thank you, Kieran, for tending my burns." He smiled and then turned to join Jarren and Drogan.

"What of Jarren?" she asked Tia. "Do you think he too was afraid? He seemed so calm."

"Jarren—" The e'eld woman looked to her longtime friend. "I wonder. Sometimes I think he only fears what he might find in his sleep. His nightmares haunt him so. Things he has seen and done in his past come back to plague him in his dreams." She shook her head. "All men fear, I think. All people, man and woman, human or e'eld or dwarf. But the One God gives us the strength, I believe, to handle our fears. And for those we cannot, he helps us with."

Jarren decided they would rest where they were for the remainder of the night. Tia and Arden took the next watch, and the night was mercilessly uneventful. Arden spoke of the Griffinwood, and of being a prince, and how he began traveling with Drogan and Faldrek. Tia spoke of the Forever Lands, and being betrothed to Prince Lian, and the journey she and Jarren had begun along with Marek and how it had taken them to Ravenhold where they all met. Arden had met Lian once, when he traveled to the Forever Lands to talk trade with the e'eld there. He told Tia that he believed Lian to be an honorable man and wished her well in her betrothal to him. After a while they grew silent and simply listened to the sounds of the night. But Jarren became restless in his sleep, and began mumbling and tossing about, speaking of some battle he had fought sometime long ago as though he were reliving it. She had risen to go to him, to soothe him as she often did in his nightmares, but stopped when she saw Kieran wake from her sleep and crawl toward him. She knew from experiance that Jarren could unintentionally be dangerous when waking from his dreams, so she watched closely, ready to move if such an event occurred.

"Shhh," Kieran hushed quietly and calmly in Jarren's ear. She placed a hand gently on Jarren's chest and spoke quietly to him. "Hush now, Jarren," she whispered. "It's Kieran. You are only dreaming. You sleep now along with Drogan, and Faldrek. Tia and Arden stand watch. Jarren's breathing slowed, and his movements calmed. "Hush now," the healer repeated. Soon he grew quiet, and appeared to be sleeping soundly once more. Kieran began to crawl back to where she was sleeping, but after second thought, remained nearby Jarren. She fell asleep again shortly after. Tia smiled and silently moved to cover Kieran with her blanket before returning to Arden.

"It appears it may be Kieran's duty to soothe Jarren's sleep now," Tia said. "I've never seen him calm so quickly."

Over the next several days they traveled along the river heading south. On one occasion they were met by a patrol of Griffinwood elves, and Prince Arden informed them of both the Skraeg moving within the forest and of the walven they encountered.

"We know of the skraeg, my prince, and are already preparing counter offensives against them," a captain told him. "Some of our patrols reported hearing strange howling at night, but they ended a few nights past.

"The walven were dropped into the river when they attacked us upon a bridge," Arden informed him. "Those walven, at least, will howl no more." He told them they searched for two priests traveling with a Forever Lands wolf, one of them wearing leather armor, and that they believed they may have met with a griffin rider.

"Yes, my prince," the captain nodded. "They travel with Hardis. We gave them mounts so the priests could ride. They travel to E'eldaduranus."

"Any skraeg between here and there?" Arden asked.

"No, my prince. You left them all behind you to the north. They are simply gathering as of now."

"Thank you captain," Arden said and then turned to the others. "Well, we know where they're going."

"Then to Elven Home we follow," Jarren said turning to Drogan. "Will you go on in your search of this Andorin?"

"No," Drogan said after a moment. "I see no chance of finding him now. It has been too long, and he could be anywhere. I'm afraid he's lost to us for now."

"What of Ravenhold?" Arden turned back to the captain. "Are these skraeg the same that attacked there?"

"No," the captain answered. "These are more that have been arriving since. Where you there?"

"Yes. And after the battle we were with the survivors traveling the pass to Rosenguarde. Then when the two priests left, we followed them here."

"Well they will not be going to Rosenguarde. It is under seige." The captain shook his head.

"What?" Drogan nearly shouted. "They could be in danger if they are discovered!"

"They already know," the captain informed them. "They are being led through the Griffinwood, where they too will find refuge in E'eldaduranus. I assure you they are well protected, and no skraeg are nearby. Our griffin riders are keeping a close eye, as well as scouts in the forests. The Skraeg appear to think we don't know they are coming. They will be greatly surprised." He then turned once more to his prince. "Your presence will be needed in E'eldaduranus, my prince."

"I understand," Arden said. "Are you keeping in contact with any griffin riders, captain?"

"Yes, we are all aware of other patrol's movements, and I myself am visited by a griffin rider at least three times each day."

"Good, send a message to the city that I am on my way."

"And Grey Home," Drogan asked. "What goes on there?"

"Grey Home holds strong, last I heard" the captain replied. "They are reinforced with Griffinwood e'eld as well as an adequate force of Haira'hem. As well, I believe the enemy may have underestimated the strength of that walled city. In my opinion, unless greatly reinforced, they will not take it. But if by chance Grey Home falls, she will not fall easily."

"Grey Home has never fallen," Faldrek proudly agreed.

"We heard people from Seaport and Misting Hill were being escorted there." Drogan said.

"Yes," the captain nodded. "The majority of them made it safely to Grey Home." They thanked the captain before leaving the elven patrol and rode south, with new questions amongst themselves and each other, and with more worries. The war had escalated so quickly, and with so little warning, and already it was a war on multiple fronts. They also knew a larger force was coming from the east, from the Shadow Lands, that threatened to cover all of Isandros like a great shadow.

***************************************************

Belkarus smiled beneath his black dragon winged helm, his face hidden behind the fanged skull. The Valley of Dragons was on his left as his horde snaked past toward Durgin's Pass. Once, long ago, a great battle was fought in that valley, and Jandrous was slain. He could almost hear the sounds of battle, could almost envision the great struggle that occurred between the opposing armies. He was certain he could almost smell the blood. "Soon," he thought to himself. "Soon, I will control all the lands that swear allegiance to Jandrous and the One God. I will destroy all those who make war against me, and I will enslave all those too weak to take up a sword themselves. The white dragons will become extinct, and the blacks will soar the skies as my eyes on the fools below. Nothing will escape my notice, and all who oppose me, and all who oppose Xandrous will die." He turned his gaze to the red robed priests riding in the column behind. "The reds will see the day their white robed adversaries are burned on stakes and reduced to ashes and bones. They will have a temple to Xandrous built from those very bones! Xandrous himself will make me his iron hand for eternity, to rule all of Isandros in his name. All power will be mine!" He laughed aloud at the sky above. "Yes, One God. Once your followers are dead and enslaved you will have no power! And Xandrous and the underworld will ride into the heavens to take your throne. And I, One God, yes I— will be the one to take your very head from your shoulders!" He shook with excitement, and gripped the walven's reins tightly in his black gloved fists. He wanted to ride as hard as he could straight to the enemy and battle thier armies all by himself if he had to. He nearly felt powerful enough to do it.

**************************************************


Lian'asuran stood at the rivers edge. E'ldfellen, Elf Fall in the common tongue, where so many elves had lost their lives protecting their homes in the Forever Lands throughout history. The river was beautiful, crisp clear water, sweet to taste, and the stars in the night sky reflected wonderfully off its surface. To his left and to his right and behind him were his border guard, as well as dwarves come down from the mountains to help— finally. Short and stout, with long thick beards and armored in chain mail, they carried heavy axes and hammers— some as tall and wide as their carriers. Although a few preferred spear or sword. Despite their short size, Lian knew them to be very powerful warriors— nearly as devastating in battle as the taurians. Some, perhaps, were even more so. Other elven soldiers had joined their ranks as well. "Not enough," he thought. "But perhaps we can hold them until more arrive." He knew more would be coming, but had they enough time to assemble? This invasion was a surprise. "My people are strong," he knew. "The dwarves are strong as well." He erased all doubt from his mind. Doubt, he knew, would cause them to lose even before the battle began. He smiled despite his worries. "We will hold the enemy here." He knew they were coming. This enemy force was determined to catch them and destroy them. They had called a halt every night, to make camp and rest. But this night was different. Lian's scouts told him they made no sign of calling a halt this time. The elves had made the Taurians very angry with their elusive attack and run tactics. The elves and dwarves would use that anger against them.

The first of the taurians burst through the tree line and charged toward the river on the other side yelling thier battle cries. Lian raised his right hand, and when he let it drop, arrows took flight. Again and again the border guard loosed their bows, felling taurians by the dozens. There was a shallow to the river stretching just twenty yards, and taurians that ran across there were only knee deep in the water. However, to both sides of the shallow, those taurians unlucky enough to enter the river were forced to attempt swimming across. It was in the shallow that the dwarves rushed in against the enemy, taking the taurians head on, and laying waste to those caught in the deep. As their shorter and stronger allies hammered and cleaved and speared the bull headed beasts, the elves rained death upon them with thier bows. They were slowing the enemy down, but because of sheer numbers it would only be a short matter of time before elves and dwarves were finally overwhelmed. It was when the fighting was beginning to grow heavy on their side of the river that Lian nearly gave the order to retreat. But something was happening at the rear of the enemy force. Some of the attacking taurians were turning around, and there appeared to be some confusion near the tree line. Another taurian army burst through the trees, attacking their own. But there was something different about them. "Their horns!" Lian eyes grew wide. "They've painted their horns!"

"Mind the white horns!" Lian shouted the command. "Do not attack the white horns!" He couldn't believe his eyes, The taurians were suddenly trapped between the elves and dwarves on one side of the river, and another force of their own kind behind them. The battle was long and bloody, but the tide had turned in their favor and when the battle was over, scores of taurians were slain. There were casualties among the dwarves and elves as well, but the enemy taurians bore the worst of it. Surviving taurians were already being chained hand and foot by the white horns, even before their general walked casually across the shallows to meet Lian. He came to stand before the elven prince and beat a fist against his huge chest in salute. He wore a kilt like skirt of thich leather hides, reinforced with chain enameled in gold and silver, and over his chest he wore a thick leather breast plate. He bore a scar traveling from above his right eye to his jaw, and his huge arms were covered in more. He had a grim look about him, even for a taurian, and his eyes were shot with red veins. He looked fierce, and deadly.

"Well met, e'eld prince," the tuarian spoke in a heavy, deep voice. "I hope you will forgive our intrusion."

"Well met," Lian nodded and saluted in kind. "We knew not of your coming. But under the circumstances, I would say you are very welcome here."

"These fools whom invaded your lands acted outside the wishes of our council, and will pay dearly for what they have done," the taurian general said. He raised a big bloody axe. "Their general already has." He looked at the sky above. "Do you know what the missing stars mean?" Lian nodded, informing the general he did know. "We believe," the general continued. "Long Winter is upon us. For too long the Taurians have been divided between those that follow Jandrous, and those that follow Xandrous. Most of us have recently chosen the former— we know prophecy fulfilled when we see it. When our common enemy massed to invade you, we had little warning. They were already sailing here, when I was given the order to amass my own force and follow."

"Well you arrived just in time," Lian said.

"My name is Turohk, High General of the newly united Taurian Army."

"I am Prince Lian'asuran," Lian said.

"I know who you are Prince Lian," Turohk said. "Your border guard is legendary even among us. Perhaps we will never call each other enemy again. Do your people know what goes on in the east?" Lian nodded. He had heard the rumors of wars. "I believe I should meet with your King, Prince Lian'asuran. We have much to discuss."

"I would be pleased to escort you there personally, Turohk." Lian reached out a hand to shake, and the taurian general looked long at it before what almost seemed like a smile spread across his bull like face, and then took the hand in a strong grip.

"Let this be the beginning of a long friendship between our people, Prince Lian'asuran."

********************************************************

Another huge stone slammed into the wall below King Erehk. There was a boom like thunder, and the sound of stone on stone, and dust and debris flew over the wall causing the king to stoop low and shield his eyes. Carefully he peered over the wall. He could see where the stone struck, but there was no visual damage other than cosmetic. He raised to his full height and placed his hands next to his cheeks so his voice would carry.

"Rosenguarde's walls are thicker than your skulls, you cursed Skraeg!" He yelled. The men on the walls beside and behind him raised their fists and a gave a triumphant shout. The skraeg below gave an an angry shout in answer and soon another stone was hurtled into the sky by a seige engine. For days the enemy had been building thier catapults, and the stones being lofted at the walls came from the first to be completed. Erehk smiled. The catapults would have to be moved closer to cause any real damage, and then the skraeg would be in range of their own defensive siege engines. He wondered how long it would take the skraeg to make that decision. The white dragon that had visited them before had arrived once more bringing word that help from Flame Wind, a city to the west, was on its way. Erehk only hoped they would arrive in time. Until then, all he could do was protect his capital city and her inhabitants as best as he could. He had strong walls, and strong soldiers, and he knew his people were strong as well. But how long could they remain strong? "As long as it takes," he thought. "What other choice do they have?" He looked long at the army of skraeg. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to to ride out of the gates with his soldiers behind him in full force and battle them face to face. But out on the field, he and his men would have been grossly outnumbered. Against an army of men, he had enough confidence in his soldiers, that they could do just that and prevail. But outnumbered against an army of skraeg, they would be torn apart. "Jarren my old friend, I hope and pray you're safe. I hope and pray that the sword is safe." Even if Rosenguarde fell, he knew, even if all of Erinor and all of the surrounding kingdoms fell— even if all of Isandros fell, as long as that sword remained free of enemy hands and landed safely in the hands of Jandrous, there was hope.



©Anthony David Rosenthal/To The Valley Of Dragons 2010





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