Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) (5 page)

“
Well, I cannot
exactly afford one, and I was leaving on short notice.” Nisa said.
“Besides, a horse attracts too much notice, especially when I am
supposed to be traveling surreptitiously. I did not want to startle
you all.”

“
Well, you certainly
startled me,” Sir Nickleby remarked, remembering that first night
when he had been on guard duty, and caught Nisa watching their
camp. Nisa had to explain a lot to him in that moment, and Sir
Nickleby had to take a closer look at her, but he was convinced in
the end that she was the Old Man’s daughter, and doing her father’s
duty on this trip, watching over them. He had almost laughed at the
thought of Nisa and Iibala meeting, until he had learned that had
already happened.

“
My daughter
certainly is a wonder,” Sir Nickleby had muttered to himself,
hearing Nisa’s story about what had happened between Basha, Iibala,
and the birds just before the militia tryouts. Perhaps he had
confessed too much to Iibala when he had told her what happened to
him on the night Berevus had betrayed his militia, but it was
necessary for him at the time
. S
he had been complain too much
about his odd, mournful behavior, which worried her, and he had to
tell somebody the truth before all of the lies and rumors swallowed
him up.

“
Anyway,” Nisa said
now, crossing her arms as Sir Nickleby turned back to her, “You
should be more careful from now on. The boys are getting restless.”
She said.

“
How do you know
that?” Sir Nickleby asked.

“
They took off three
minutes ago down a side trail.” Nisa pointed. “They said they would
race a mile down the trail and back before you got back out of
these bushes.”

“
What?” Sir Nickleby
said, running out of the bushes as Nisa shook her head. The Old Man
would have been upset with her to learn that she had allowed the
boys, especially Basha, to get out of her sight, but she thought
that Sir Nickleby deserved to learn a lesson of his own about
ignoring his duties.

Sir Nickleby mounted
his horse and took off
,
galloping the wrong way. He went
down the main road instead of the hunter’s path that he must have
missed.

“
Sir Nickleby! Wait!”
Nisa cried, coming out of the bushes and seeing his misdirection.
However, she was forced to hide herself again when she heard the
approach of two horses coming onto the main road from the hunter’s
path
. S
he witnessed the crash of the falcon into Basha, Oaka’s
appearance, and the Wolves.

Nisa lifted her head as she saw the
last of the Black Wolves running after Basha and Oaka, unaware of
her existence when they were concentrated on their prey. She
muttered, “You’re not getting them,” and quickly went to fetch her
bag. She should have been more careful with her own charges.

His horse galloping down the road, Sir
Nickleby muttered to himself, “Why can’t they just wait for me? Is
it so hard for them to sit still?” He paused and muttered to
himself, “Better make it ‘lords and ladies,’” still thinking about
the speech.

He peered about in
search for the side trail until a howl echoed throughout the forest
and Sir Nickleby’s horse reared up as he pulled on the reins. He
could not figure out where the noise was coming from.

“
Sir Nickleby!” Basha called out, from behind him.

Sir Nickleby turned
his head around, and saw one of the most horrific sights he had
ever seen before, coming his way. The boys were riding their horses
like all of the demons of the shadow worlds were after them, and
they were. Black Wolves, Hyena Wolves, a whole pack of them, like
the one that should have been there when he had discovered the
scout in the forest last Suma. They were after the boys, they were
after Basha. He couldn’t believe how time slowed down as everything
moved, fast as lightning, towards him.

“
Well, I suppose I shall have to do my job!” Sir Nickleby
called out, and jumped down from his horse as the animal bolted. It
was harder than it looked to make such a jump. He managed to land
on the ground with a roll, and stand up again, unsheathing his
sword. He was too old for this sort of action, leave acrobatics to
young people like Nisa.

“
Keep going, boys!” Sir Nickleby called out to them as the
boys were trying to rein in their horses. “I’ll catch up!” He waved
them on, still sore.

The horses ran on
again, as smoothly as lightning streaking across the sky in jagged
lines, when the boys could not stop them, and then Sir Nickleby
strode out into the middle of the road. “Come on, you bunch of dogs
from in-bred mothers!” Sir Nickleby roared. “Have at me, Wolves!”
He cried out as the pack launched itself at him; he would not die
without some pain. Oh, Iibala, he was sorry…

Something had
happened, or was happening, Doomba sensed, opening his eyes behind
the mask in the Wastelands, south of Arria, although he could not
tell just when
or
where
it had
occurred, or what it was
. The
shadows toiled about him, bringing him images from all parts of the
world in every imaginable time as rapidly as they could, although
they could not
always be
precise or informative about what was going on when they were only
sentient enough to observe, not to discern and reach conclusions.
Thus, his senses and shadows in this matter didn’t exactly help him
much when their information was a bit piecemeal, but from what
little he could tell and sense, whatever had occurred was
thrilling, exciting, and ultimately
disappointing, as the quarry had gotten away from them.

Still, there was some
satisfaction for now, as a little bit of meat and blood was left to
share amongst his Servants, far away from him, to the
north
. T
he north, there always seemed to be some disturbance
happening up in the north these days, but then again, the tiger was
expected to come from the north. The tiger
…
was it
…
could he have escaped
yet again from pursuit? Doomba’s agitation aggravated his shadows
as well, twisting and turning into smaller and smaller loops about
him, to coil as tightly as they could to protect him and constrain
his temper.

Why was the
tiger
of light
always escaping? Doomba wondered, What could be
protecting him? There was always something that seemed to be
shielding the tiger, hiding him from Doomba’s sight and smell and
hearing, amongst
his
other more intuitive senses, protecting him from
the Followers and Servants that got too close to penetrating the
mystery of who he was, and conveying that information to Doomba
through Doomba’s shadows. Who was he, and what were these forces
protecting him? Doomba had to know before it was too late for him
to prevent the unthinkable. The shadows trembled.

Having surrendered
his humanity, or most of it anyway, long ago, when he, as Memba,
had consumed a demon and allowed it to take control of his body,
past and present had lost all meaning to him, and were the same to
him in the end. He had cheated death and become deathless, although
he was not immortal.
The
tiger of light was prophesized to destroy him, but Doomba would
have none of that.
He would come to an end
eventually, hopefully when everything else in this world ceased to
exist, although even then, he would search for a way to escape this
dying world, and enter another world, perhaps to inhabit another
body.
Perhaps the tiger of
light could be the vessel he needed, although Doomba had to be sure
the tiger of light would have no will left to fight back against
him.

“
Sire?”
A
gringrok’s voice called out
from the doorway. “One of the Trollas has come here to complain
about a disturbance in the Pits.”

“
Isn’t there always?” Doomba
grumbled, his dream disrupted. “Send him in.”

“
Sir Nickleby! Sir
Nickleby!” Basha cried, as he had been doing for what seemed like
the past half-hour, but it had only been a few moments since they
had passed by Sir Nickleby.

“
He can’t hear you,
Basha!” Oaka exclaimed, trying to turn his head around as he
thought that he saw something
…
he grimaced. A horrible sight
indeed, one that would haunt him forever.
The wolves had Sir Nickleby; there was no point in
returning.
“Just keep going!” He insisted,
looking away.
They had to
keep going, they had to survive, and there was no point in staying
behind to die.
He wished that
he could have summoned up fire to burn up those wolves, though,
just like he had summoned up fire to burn Hastin’s wooden sword,
and the bushes, although that had been by accident. How had he been
able to do such a thing? What was this magic?

Talan and Joko were
galloping as fast as they could, with Basha and Oaka still hanging
on barely, but the boys now at least had better grips on their
reins, and their seats, though they were still bouncing a bit, were
more firmly planted. At last, the horses slowed down enough that
Basha and Oaka could pull on the reins and halt the horses. Talan
and Joko lowered their heads, exhausted from the flight, as Basha
and Oaka looked around. It had been several minutes since they had
left Sir Nickleby behind, but they must have been several miles
from where the wolves
had
surrounded…
Oaka shuddered at the
thought.

“
We have
to
,
we have t
o,
” Basha said, gulping. “We have
to go back!”

“
Are you kidding me?
Basha
,
” Oaka said, turning about. “We can’t go back, Sir Nickleby
is dead! We have to face the truth
…
why are there no wolves attacking
us right now?” Oaka asked, looking around.
He couldn’t see anything besides the forest that
surrounded them, why were there no wolves surrounding them now,
like they had surrounded Sir Nickleby?

“
Why do you
say that?
”
Basha asked, wondering what was wrong with Oaka.

“
They were right
behind us, they were after us!” Oaka said, thinking that they
couldn’t have lost the wolves so quickly. “Half
…
the horses can’t run
anymore. Half of the wolves could have gone after us, while the
other half stayed behind with Sir Nickleby
…
” He gasped. “They
were
…
we should have been killed by now, standing here.” He was
almost frightened of that fact alone
,
it didn’t make any sense to
him.
Nothing was making any
sense to him at this point, the wolves, and the fire, and Sir
Nickleby…could he have saved the knight? But how?

“
You’re hopeless.”
Basha said, shaking his head. “A true pessimist. We’re alive.” He
said, slightly surprised by that fact as well.

“
I can’t handle
this.” Oaka wheezed, frowning to himself as he leaned forward over
Joko. Why did all of this seem so familiar to him, as if something
like this had happened to him
and Basha
before? It nagged in the
back of his mind.

“
Sir Nickleby died to
save us...” Basha whispered, and then looked up. “The birds!” He
cried. “Can’t you hear them?”

“
What, the birds?”
Oaka asked, looking around
fearfully
. “Yes, I guess
I can hear them,” He said,
shaking his head. There was something about a
bird, a giant bird, in that memory of his.
“What does that mean?”
He asked.

“
They weren’t here
when the wolves were
,
the wolves have gone!” Basha said. “It’s safe
now!”

“
It’s safe? How
can
it be?”
Oaka shook his head. “It can’t be.”

“
I have to go back.”
Basha said, dismounting from Talan. “I have to
see
.
”

“
Basha, you can’t!”
Oaka said, dismounting from Joko as well, and rushing over to stop
him. “There’s nothing left! There’s
…
” He stopped as Basha turned
towards him. “There’s nothing left.” Oaka repeated. “I think I saw
the wolves
tearing
…
” Oaka gulped, trying to
block the image from his mind. “There’s nothing left of Sir
Nickleby.” He said.

“
You’re wrong, Oaka.”
Basha said, tearing up. “You’re wrong, he’s
…
oh, Oaka, what have I done?”
He lowered his head.

“
Basha, you have to
be strong,” Oaka said, grabbing hold of him. “I don’t think that
old knight would want to see us like this.”

Basha laughed bitterly at the thought
of Sir Nickleby disciplining them for being so morose. “Oaka, what
have I done?” He asked, still somber.

Oaka wrapped an arm around him. “We
have to keep going, Basha.” Oaka said, leading him back towards
Talan. “Come on, let’s get out of here before those wolves decide
to come back.” He said, looking around.