Ferral's Deathmarch Army

21

  Jai-Quinn

  Though Kristian had looked over his shoulder every league, the journey had so far been uneventful. After Balhir led them to one of the clan’s secret resupply points, a small cave in the mountain face, the party had quickly moved to get as far from the fighting as possible. Their mission was to get to the Atlunam. It would do no one any good to be surrounded by the creatures. Balhir had been able to provide them with fresh mounts and food. The horses were shorter and sturdier than the ones Mikhal and Kristian were used to. The Holtsmen kept them for their ability to travel through the mountains, but they handled the trek back across the plains just as easily. In just one day’s time, the party had moved into the shadows of the great forest.

  “Now, what?” Balhir asked as he stared into the depths of the woods. “We won’t get very, bloody far before some hunter puts an arrow through each of our eyes.” Kristian turned toward Hin’cabo. The hunter pointed toward the woods and said something to Cairn.

  Cairn nodded in understanding and translated. “He says this part of the forest has little protection. A patrol from another village only comes by here once a week.”

  “Only once a week,” Balhir exclaimed, looking at Hin’cabo. “If we had known that, then you and the rest of your hunter friends would have had little chance against us.”

  The hunter laughed sensing what the Holtsman said. Cairn smiled as he listened to the Atlunam hunter.

  Cairn repeated, “It would have done you little good. This area is filled with traps. Pits, stakes, and trees that will fall on you. Your chances of survival would have been greater against an army.” Balhir and his men were taken back by this. “Hin’cabo knows the paths that are safe. He says he can get us through the dangers in less than a day, but it is too late to start. It is suicide for anyone, even an Atlunam, to try and get through in darkness.”

  Mikhal scanned the edge of the trees and found a group of sturdy, older elms on a slight rise to their left. “Is it safe to camp there? The trees will help conceal us and our mounts, plus it looks a little more defensible.” Cairn and Hin’cabo nodded in agreement. The group would rest as much as possible and move into the forest at first light.

  As Kristian and his companions established their own sleeping area inside the perimeter, Cairn and Hin’cabo discussed the best route to the capital. Though speed was crucial, in the end it mattered little. Few roads passed into the interior of the forest, and only one road would take them all the way into the heart of the Atlunam Kingdom. Hin’cabo told Cairn that it would take at least two full days to reach the city. Cairn nodded grimly, and moved over to discuss the plan with the rest of the group.

  Balhir returned from checking on his men and decided to listen in. Cairn translated for Hin’cabo, saying, “So, it will take at least two days, probably more like three, before we reach the capital.”

  “What is the name of this city?” Kristian asked.

  “It is called Jai-Quinn, meaning Foundation,” Cairn explained.

  “Foundation? Is that it?” Maurin exclaimed. “For such a secretive race, I would have thought they would have a better name for their capital.”

  “It is hard to describe,” Cairn went on. “Their language is very complex. There are several different words that could describe a foundation. Jai-Quinn would describe the ’best type’ of foundation.

  “Just like the Atlu-buggers,” Balhir snorted. “Always thinking they are better than everyone else. Their arrogant attitude is what separates them from my people. If they ever got off their sacred ’foundation’ and talked with other people, as if they were no better than anyone else, then maybe there would be no war between us.”

  “I’m sure it’s solely their fault that your two nations have been trying to destroy each other for centuries, Balhir,” Kristian replied. “Cairn, what can you tell us of the Atlunam’s culture, their king? What can we expect when we enter their city? And what will happen when I ask them for their support?”

  Cairn’s brow furrowed, “Those are difficult questions. The easiest one to answer is about how well you will be received. I don’t think you will be welcome in Jai-Quinn. The Atlunam are very distrustful of outsiders. It will be hard to convince them that they’re in danger when there is no direct threat against their people.”

  “I thought you told us to seek their help,” Kristian replied, suddenly losing hope. “Have we wasted our time seeking something that we know we can’t obtain?”

  “I don’t think so. You have several things to your advantage. First, you are a king. There have been few envoys to these people, if ever. They may be interested in what you have to say because of your status. The fact that you also have the son of a Holt chieftain with you may also interest them. The Atlunam are not ones to be outdone. Also, I’ve had dealings with them before. Some of the guards, or maybe a person in the court, might speak up on our behalf if I can convince them of the danger they face.”

  “What about their culture, Cairn? What are the people like,” Mikhal wanted to know.

  Cairn took a long time before he told them what he knew. “They are restless. It’s as if they’re eager to do things, yet afraid to try. They are very intelligent, overall. I have never met one of them that could not read and write. Many of the Atlunam can speak more than one language, especially those from the better families. I don’t think it will be a challenge communicating with the Royal Family.

  “As for their culture, they seem to know so many things inherently. Their buildings are constructed in a way completely different from all the rest in the world. The homes and shops are more beautiful, but also practical. I think the capital will astound us all. It is supposedly set among the trees of a delta created by two large rivers, the buildings spread across the low hills overlooking the waters. Almost every home has a spectacular view of the surrounding forest and rivers. The rivers meet right at the bay to a warm water ocean. The capital uses the bay as a port, facilitating trade to outlying villages. And the entire city is protected by a wooden wall thirty feet high. The wall is so far away from the homes that you would never even know that the place was one of the best protected capitals in the world.”

  Kristian smirked. “You described it very well. I thought you told us you had never been there?”

  Cairn nodded, hesitantly. “I have been there before. I didn’t want to deceive you, but … it is a part of my past that is hard for me to share.”

  Mikhal had the next question. “If these people are as mistrusting as you have said, then why did they allow you to enter their woods?” Everyone seemed to lean closer as they waited for Cairn’s reply.

  “I think they were curious about me. We eventually came to an agreement to help each other,” Cairn offered. “I taught them to understand our language and in return some of them taught me how to deal with my problems.” They all looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Let’s just say, the Atlunam taught me a little about how to deal with anger. They taught me one of the Ways of the Sword, the Tarish’sa Shaif. It’s not the highest level of swordsmanship you can attain, but the skills I gained were enough for what I needed to do; the Atlunam would not permit me to learn everything.”

  Entering the woods stressed the group to the edge of shattering, knowing that traps lay all around them. One wrong step could kill one or all of them. Balhir and his men fared worse than the others, having to trust Hin’cabo even though they had put him on trial only a few days ago. The Holtsmen feared Hin’cabo might lead them away from the correct path intentionally and kill each of them, one by one.

  The trees towered over them creating shadows everywhere. The morning sun shone dimly through the branches of the trees to their front. Though most of the dirt path was engulfed in darkness, Hin’cabo walked forward with sure steps. The others walked with more caution. Several paths split off from the one that Hin’cabo chose; any one of those paths could mean disaster.

  Hin’cabo pointed out some of the traps along the way just to prove
they were real. The hunter showed Balhir a small, thin line of string crossing their path. Behind some brush next to the path, Hin’cabo pointed at a series of saplings pulled back and staked to the ground. The saplings were covered with sharp thorns. Cairn told them the thorns were covered in poison. The party carefully walked around the tripwire.

  Balhir shook his head in disgust.

  It took them the better part of the day to get past the traps. They knew they were safe when their winding path suddenly changed into a hard-packed road. A horse and cart could fit with ease on the straight, dirt road, which ran to the east far beyond their sight. Cairn spoke with Hin’cabo and then came back to his Erandian companions. He suggested they take a short break to eat and rest.

  No sooner had they taken the packs off their backs than Hin’cabo signaled for them to prepare for another march. The Atlunam hunter raised a staff over his head that held a piece of yellow fabric attached to it. A strange red symbol marked the center of the fabric. Cairn had told them earlier that Hin’cabo planned to do this for their protection against those that would recognize them as outsiders or worse, Holtsmen. They started off with Hin’cabo and Cairn in the lead and the remainder split up walking on either side of the road at regular intervals.

  Cairn turned back to Kristian as they started walking, “With good weather, a strong pace and no encounters, we could be in the capital before tomorrow night. It is about forty miles to the east and then south.” Maurin groaned aloud at the thought of the painful walk ahead. The others simply nodded ready to get the journey over with.

  Toward evening, the party encountered the first of many other Atlunam tribesmen traveling along the road. The first pair was a couple of elderly Atlunam carrying a bundle of sticks on their backs. Kristian and the rest of the group overtook them on the road, barely slowing as they passed by. Mikhal was the lone exception; his pace lessened as he looked at the Atlunam, but the couple pretended not to notice any of them until they saw some of Balhir’s men. The man and his wife dropped their sticks as they stared in wide-eyed fear at the dull armor and long braided hair of their ancient enemies. They looked in bewilderment back and forth between the Holtsmen and the makeshift banner that Hin’cabo carried. They quickly gathered their belongings together and hurried off on a side road, keeping their eyes on Balhir’s men the entire time.

  Balhir came close to Kristian and said, “I just hope that blasted sign does not say, ‘Holtsmen coming, please kill them’.”

  Kristian smiled, “maybe that’s exactly what it says.” Balhir glanced at the banner then snorted, showing his disgust while trying to hide his worry.

  Hin’cabo did not slacken his pace even as the light of day failed. Upon returning to his homeland, the injured hunter had regained some of his confidence and strength. He knows the dead are coming, and his only chance to protect his people is to make sure the king knows what to expect, Kristian thought. Hin’cabo must have his misgivings about the Holtsmen, especially the chieftain’s son, but there’s little that can be done about it. The dead that threatened to overwhelm the Holts would soon turn their attention upon the Atlunam. Hin’cabo’s wife and parents would not be the last victims to fall to the evil sorcerer’s army.

  Lanterns hung down among the trees almost every half mile of the route, and the road appeared well used. This seemed to worry the Holtsmen as much as the possibility of traps. Balhir knew this meant that the Atlunam surrounded them.

  “How long have we been under the watch of those blasted archers and their deadly arrows?” Balhir asked Cairn. “Are they following us?”

  “Probably,” Cairn admitted.

  Kristian could not help but smile a little. The distrust between the two people was as bad as the animosity between Erandians and Belarnians. These people might be totally removed from my situation, but it seems we’re very alike. If I can convince them of this and the danger we all face, then maybe I can find the help I need to rescue Allisia.

  As the moon began to rise behind them, Hin’cabo stopped and moved off on a small path to his left. Kristian followed and saw the path led them into a small clearing free of underbrush. A small pit ringed with stones for a fire sat in the middle of the clearing.

  Hin’cabo came back to Kristian, saying something in his own language, and then added, “Safe here. Please rest, friend.” The hunter smiled when he saw the look of astonishment on the Erandian’s face. Cairn approached as Hin’cabo left to gather sticks for a fire.

  “Hin’cabo has been asking me how to say something to you all day. He is much better with a bow and arrow than he is with words,” Cairn said.

  Kristian stammered out, “I’m honored.”

  “Yes, you should be. Rarely do they accept outsiders. You and Mikhal have proven yourselves. I don’t think Hin’cabo will ever forget how you stood up for him against Vortah.”

  Mikhal had heard the discussion and added, “I hope that counts for something when all of their weapons are focused on us at the city gates.”

  That night, as Kristian prepared to lie down, the wind picked up around him. Dirt from the ground flew up and stung his eyes blinding him for a moment. Kristian squinted, trying to get the dirt out. Then he saw a vision of Allisia, of her beautiful figure outlined in shimmering silver; her features the color of the moon. Her eyes, dark and beautiful, had a new sadness in them. She stared at Kristian for a moment before speaking.

  “Hurry, Kristian, hurry.” Grief tinged her voice, but he could sense no hint of panic. Kristian thought Allisia sounded resigned to her situation, as though she wanted to warn him that she was running out of time but did not expect him to come to her aid.

  “Allisia? Allisia, God, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I …”

  “Kristian, hurry.” Then Allisia’s image faded away.

  Kristian stood there staring into the dark woods where she had appeared. He looked around for an instant to see if anyone else had seen her, but everyone continued preparing for bed. Kristian was the only one to see her. Confused, he shook his head wondering if he had really seen Allisia or just imagined her. The nagging feeling that Allisia was running out of time would not leave him, though. Kristian did not sleep the rest of the night.

  The traffic on the road heading east worsened the next day. Atlunam stopped and turned to stare at them. It caused Hin’cabo and the others to slow down twice when crowds of angry villagers blocked their path. Kristian feared an incident, but each time Hin’cabo raised his peace banner the crowds dispersed, without confrontation or even a word for their fellow countryman.

  Albeit reluctantly, Kristian believed.

  The tension they all felt helped them through the miles. Sooner than Kristian expected, they reached the outskirts of the Atlunam capital. They had walked forty miles in a day and a half. Kristian had constantly pushed the party to move faster since the vision of Allisia the previous night.

  Below them, the road widened and small clusters of homes appeared just beyond the bushes surrounding the path. The area had an eerie silence about it. The sudden noise of one of the Holtsmen clearing his throat jolted Maurin, who was already on edge. The healer’s eyes stayed wide open, scanning the trees for the near-invisible hunters with their deadly bows. If the Atlunam hunters hid there, however, Maurin never discovered them.

  None of them expected the sight that met their eyes as they climbed the final small rise. Kristian stopped next to Cairn and Hin’cabo staring in awe at Jai-Quinn. Though still a fair distance to travel, the capital sprawled in such a manner that it took up their entire view.

  Kristian looked out over a great valley that stretched for miles to the north and south. Little communities and larger wooded areas dotted the valley. The smoke, from the homesteads and even a few shops, trickled up into the sky. A sparkling blue river flowed in a lazy fashion through the low ground merging with a wider, dark green river in the middle of the valley. The two waters joined for a while, and then separated, creating a small island before rej
oining. Further to the south, Kristian could just see where the combined rivers broadened into a bay. Further out, he could see the light blue haze of an ocean. Dark storm clouds gathered far to the south, just at the edge of the horizon.

  The natural beauty of the valley left the whole group speechless. Fields of wild grass covered the small hills. Everything appeared to be natural and unspoiled, making it difficult for Kristian to notice the palace and the other government buildings. They seemed a part of the scenery, as natural as the trees and the rivers.

  The great wooden wall stood out from all of the other artificial structures. The timbers rose much higher than what Cairn had described. Each wooden shaft stood straight, smoothly finished. At the top of the wall, cut timbers formed bulwarks where guards could hide from arrows and spears. The wall curved with the surrounding hills and trees making it seem even more appropriate. After more consideration, Kristian noticed that the wall always seemed to be placed to the tactical advantage of the defenders. He could see few vulnerable points where attackers had a height advantage or where they could use trees and hills to cover the route up to the wall. Wherever an apparent weakness existed, the Atlunam had erected wooden towers behind the wall. It was impressive—in some ways it resembled the Holtsmen’s fortress, practical and defendable. Where granite made up the majority of the Cougar Holt’s stronghold, the Atlunam used wood for most of their capital. Kristian felt there was something different about the Atlunam lands, however. There was an overdone quality to the structures that, in some ways, reminded him of Erandian nobles trying too hard to convince his father of their importance.

  The homes and buildings of the city were not organized into neat and efficient blocks nor did they appear random. Many of the structures took advantage of the surrounding environment. Kristian could see groups of cottages clustered around several stands of trees within the valley. He imagined much of the city looked like that. Some of the larger buildings stood out in the open; some of the wooden structures had three or more stories. Many had balconies and porches giving him a sense of tranquility and indicating the Atlunam did not take their surroundings for granted.

  The only odd thing Kristian noticed was that he could not see any, “Roads. There are very few roads.”

  “You are right, Kristian. There are few roads in the city. The Atlunam feel they destroy the beauty of the scenery,” Cairn replied.

  “How do they get their heavier traffic from place to place? Where are the horses and carts? How do they move all of their supplies?”

  Cairn had a knowing smile on his face. “You will have to see it to believe it. I could never explain it well enough anyway.”