Chained By Fear: 2 (31 page)

Rathburt laughed too loudly. “I’ve always said he looks like a dracool—without the wings.”

Kusala gave him an angry stare, and Rathburt shut his mouth, fading into the darkness.

“Master Slump is always like that,” Ugga explained to Laylah. “But he’s not such a meanie when ya get to know him.”

Even Torg chuckled. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

Kusala reminded them, harshly, that they were making far too much noise, so they continued on in silence. The Asēkhas led them along game trails—taking advantage of the instincts of wild animals which unerringly follow the path of least resistance—enabling the party to sidle around the slopes and conserve valuable energy. The trail wound through stands of hemlocks, chestnut oaks and yellow poplar, though the trees themselves were just another part of the darkness, and only an up-close view of their bark could differentiate them.

At one point, the group came across a rock outcropping that hung precariously above them. Cold water from a nearby springhead trickled off the ledge. They stopped, bent back their heads and drank. To Torg it tasted delicious. Afterward he watched Laylah take her turn. It was too dark to see much, but he was able to make out the tendons in her neck as she leaned backward. At that moment the urge to kiss her—there or anywhere—became almost irresistible.

Torg remembered the words of Peta:
There are three females on Triken who can abide you—and you already have met them
. Vedana was one, Jord another; he knew those two from recent experience. And the third? Could it be? Laylah was the sister of Invictus, which meant she was a creature of magic.

Peta, is she the one? Please tell me it’s true
.

An owl hooted in response.

After drinking their fill, they continued their journey. The only sounds they made were the occasional curses from Lucius. Torg could sense the Asēkhas’ distrust of the man and their growing admiration of the others. Elu moved almost as quietly as a Tugar, and even Ugga—as tall as Torg and a good deal heavier—was graceful. Laylah seemed at home in the darkness, walking with the suppleness of a Tyger. Every glimpse of her made Torg desire her all the more.

Peta, if she’s not the one, I don’t think I can bear it
.

But in his heart, he knew she was. He could sense her internal power, had already tasted it—and it had blended seductively with his own inner flame.

Damn this Lucius. Why should I worry about his feelings?

But he knew the answer.

Because Laylah asked you to, that’s why. Be patient, Torg. Patience is the path to bliss
.

By the time dawn approached and swept away the great darkness, they had traveled four leagues from the rock shelter. The sky had cleared overnight and now was crystal blue. They entered a cove pervaded with magnolias, basswood and giant poplars. Silver bells blanketed the forest floor, their blooms eagerly greeting the rising sun and the welcome warmth of spring. Golden butterflies fluttered among them. Crimson cardinals flew from tree to tree, males tussling with males and chasing after the less-colorful females. If the specter of pursuit had not harassed them so much, the group would have stopped and stared, soaking in the beauty and enjoying the sweet-smelling air.

Even Laylah seemed stronger.

“It’s time, my friend,” Torg said to Kusala. “Which four will you take with you?”

The chieftain started to speak but was interrupted by Rati, who rushed down the side of a nearby slope and ran to Torg.

“Lord, a pack of wolves is on the prowl—fifty, exactly. And Porisāda warriors ride them. I witnessed their approach from the ridge above. They’ll be upon us before the sun is overhead. And their howling has alerted the dracools. Mala will soon know our location. The main strength of his army was not within my vision, but we must prepare for an attack from these foul beasts and their riders.”

“I can’t leave now,” Kusala said. “You still need my help. Surely one more day away from Anna can’t hurt.”

Torg agreed. “We’ll need all of the Asēkhas. Things are going to happen in a hurry. We must be prepared to run as fast as the wolves. And have your weapons ready.”

“What about me?” Lucius said. “I can wield a sword or a bow. Will you leave me defenseless?”

“When the fighting begins, I’ll make sure you’re armed,” said Torg, who then turned to Laylah. “Both of you.”

Except for their midnight snack of cactus squares, they had not eaten since dusk of the previous night, and even that meal had been tiny. Although time was precious, they were forced to gobble a light meal to keep up their strength. Then they drank deeply from a nearby stream. In the foothills of the mountains, lack of water was not a problem. There was a stream, creek or springhead within five hundred paces of almost anywhere they stood.

Shortly thereafter, they continued their flight. With the arrival of daylight, visibility became plentiful despite the dense canopy. The cove ran east to west. To the north the land rose like a stormy sea toward a range of vast mountains, while to the south it smoothed considerably. But the forest—an eclectic mixture of hardwoods and conifers—became even denser. Many of the hardwoods, the oaks especially, had not begun to leaf out, and their bare branches reached toward the sky like the gnarled limbs of skeletons. But hundreds of dogwoods were in bloom, their spectacular white flowers gleaming like leftover patches of snow. Torg loved to walk these trails in the early spring, but he had no time now to enjoy their splendor.

As Rati had predicted, they began to hear the howls of the wolves around noon.

“How many did you say there were?” Rathburt said, panting and wheezing.

“Fifty
 . . .
with Porisādas on their backs.”

Rathburt looked at Torg. “You, Ugga, Bard and Elu whipped a larger pack than that
 . . .
and a Kojin led them. With the Asēkhas at our side, it should be no problem.”

“The wolves we defeated did not carry Porisādas,” Torg said. “Even so, if we faced just this small band I would not be concerned. It’s Mala and the rest of his army that endanger us. Once these wolves and their masters recognize us for what we are, they will not attack directly. But the cannibals are excellent bowmen and can shoot while they ride. I believe they’ll attempt to encircle us and hinder our progress, giving the monster and his minions more time to catch up.”

Lucius joined the discussion. “I know the Chain Man better than any of you. He is confident to the point of recklessness. Once the dracools report our number and location, he will send orders to harass us and slow us down. And then, when his army is within striking distance, he’ll attack all at once with every bit of his strength. If that happens, one hundred Asēkhas will not suffice.”

“One hundred Asēkhas
would
suffice,” Torg said, “but, alas, we do not have one hundred and therefore cannot defeat Mala’s army by force. Flight is our best option, but even that will be difficult. We might outrun Mala, but we can’t outrun the wolves.”

“If we can’t fight and we can’t run, then what
can
we do?” Rathburt said. “It’s as if you’re saying we’re doomed.”

“
You’re
not doomed,” Laylah said despondently. “Only Lucius and I. This doesn’t have to be your fight. Maybe Lucius has been right all along about the two of us separating from you. Mala will come for us and allow the rest of you to escape.”

“Do not say such words again,” Torg snapped at Laylah. “We’re in this together, until the end.” He turned to Lucius. “All of us, I mean.”

The howling intensified. The wolves were less than a league away.

“We must reach higher ground,” Torg announced. “I want to stay above the enemy. Mogol arrows cannot harm the Asēkhas. They will guard our flanks. Do not be without hope. I have a plan. If I am right about what lies ahead, then we might yet have an advantage. But we have little time to waste. Elu, you know these lands better than any in our company. Lead us up the mountain!”

At first the command seemed to startle the tiny Svakaran, but then he turned northward and scrambled up the side of a knoll. The trees were less dense there, but tangled masses of shrubbery and brambles now blocked their way. The Asēkhas wielded their
uttaras
like scythes, hacking openings through the brush. Torg held Obhasa in front of him and burned wide avenues with sizzling bursts of blue-green flame. But when he incinerated what hindered them, he also cleared the way for the enemy.

Kusala unveiled his sling and let fly a silver bead. Another dracool smote the slope. Soon after, the chieftain and the others reached the crest of the knoll and made for a steep-sided ridge that was connected to a range of towering mountains still crowned with snow. The ridge was as sharp as the spine of a giant dune in the heart of Tējo.

When they started across, the lead wolves and their riders came into view behind them. The Porisādas launched a flurry of arrows, but none found a mark. Several Asēkhas broke off from the company and met the attackers head-on. The desert warriors moved casually, as if the wolves were mere nuisances. The horse-sized beasts tried to trample them, but the Asēkhas stepped aside and hacked at their front legs with blurring strokes from their
uttaras
. The wolves tumbled forward, throwing their riders, and the Porisādas were stabbed through their hearts before they could stand. In a matter of moments, ten wolves and nine riders lay dead, the lone survivor having leapt off his mount and retreated into the trees.

A dracool attempted to take advantage of the commotion, streaking toward Laylah like a diving hawk, its front talons spread wide. But a single blast of blue-green fire from Obhasa blew the
baby dragon
apart. A strip of charred flesh splashed against Torg’s lips. As he brushed it away, he thought to himself,
it does taste like chicken
.

Now they were alone on the ridge. The rest of the wolves and Porisādas hung back under the cover of the trees. Torg and his company had barely enough room to walk in single file. One misstep could lead to a deadly fall.

The rest of Mala’s dracools, eight in all, circled out of range of the Asēkhas’ slings. Bard loosed an arrow from the bow of Jord, and another
baby dragon
fell. After that, the remaining dracools flew so high they looked like black specks.

Elu led them to the far side of the ridge. Two Asēkhas were left behind to hold the narrow way. The others crossed over onto the steep back of a great mountain. Their company still was several thousand cubits from the summit, so the trees and foliage remained dense.

They came upon a stream littered with odd-shaped boulders. Foamy bursts of water coursed between gaps in the stone. The banks of the stream were lined with hemlocks and shrubs, and massive layers of gray-green rock anchored its bed, forming a series of small waterfalls and swirling pools.

They followed a game trail upstream along the right bank. The path was strewn with gnarled oak roots, making it difficult even for Torg and the remaining Asēkhas not to stumble. And where there were no roots, swaths of gooey mud took their place. At one point the immense Ugga sank almost to his knees, and it took two Asēkhas to pull him free.

The roar of the stream blocked out most other sound. They could not hear if the Asēkhas left behind were engaged in battle or if pursuit came from somewhere other than the ridge. The path and stream wound in tandem like a pair of snakes slithering side by side. At some places, their sight distance was limited to several hundred paces, making them feel entrapped and claustrophobic. But they rushed along the rolling bank as fast as they could, rising higher and higher. At times the canopy thickened so much it cut off most of the sunlight, ensconcing them in sparkling darkness.

The first sign of the enemy came when a Mogol arrow buried itself in a tree next to Lucius’ head. Several Asēkhas peeled off into the brush, and a short time later the rest of the company heard shouts. Elu led the rest of them tirelessly along the path, which suddenly turned left, crossing over the stream on a smooth stone floor that a sheet of rushing water made slick. Then the path rose abruptly up a steep bank and drew away from the stream until it was no longer visible, though they still could hear its roar.

The Asēkhas returned—without blood on their swords.

“The wolves and Mogols move too fast for us,” one of the warriors said. “They leap through the brush and brambles as easily as air. They must have found another way to approach. Many more have come, and they follow us on both sides, just out of sight. Even if we come upon an open place to meet them, we will be hard-pressed. The wolves are black and their fangs poisoned.”

Just then, a gigantic male wolf bearing a shrieking Porisāda warrior crashed through the trees and leapt at Lucius. Kusala shoved the smaller man aside but caught the full brunt of the wolf’s charge and was knocked backward into the brush. An instant later, a slew of
uttaras
pierced the wolf and the cannibal. The chieftain stood back up, more embarrassed than hurt.

“I thank you for saving my life,” Lucius said. Then he turned to Torg. “I think it’s time you armed Laylah and me, as promised.”

Torg agreed. A warrior gave Lucius an
uttara
, an even more precious gift than the firstborn probably realized, and Torg presented Laylah with his ivory staff.