The Awakened Book Two (11 page)

Still running, Kael’s legs began to burn, but he pushed on until he approached the crest of the hill. Taking in large amounts of air, he slowed himself to a crawl, then veered toward the southern slope of the valley and climbed his way out. He came out into a stand of trees that offered some protection, but limited his visibility. Kael scanned the mountain top while creeping forward, looking for some sign that he wasn’t alone. Then, the scuffle of a boot upon a rock sounded to his left. Carefully, he moved forward a few steps and froze.

There in front of him, only twenty paces away, was the Syvak scout, moving sideways along the rocks with his eyes toward the river. Kael was startled at how close he already was to the man. Breathing steadily, he moved silently forward, keeping just behind the scout’s peripheral vision.

As he neared, Kael watched in confusion as the man lifted his hands to his face. For a moment, Kael wondered if he was about to sneeze. Instead, he cupped his hands around his mouth and howled like a dog. Suddenly, Kael could hear the faint sounds of commotion coming from the river. It was a signal and his companions were in danger.

Kael burst into action, no longer concerned about silence.

The startled man spun around just in time to see a boot crash into his face. The force of the kick whipped the man’s head backward and his body followed obediently, crashing to the ground. Without breaking his stride, Kael reached down to the man’s head and gave it a quick twist, feeling the neck snap.

Without hesitating to even verify the man’s death, Kael ran down the mountainside, dodging branches and clusters of boulders. The descent seemed to take twice as long as the ascent as every passing second felt like an eternity. The slope flattened in time with the thinning of the trees and suddenly, the shoreline was visible. Kael glanced left and right, but couldn’t see around the bend of the river. He had no idea where his companions were. Guessing, he turned right and followed the river to the south. And to his dismay, he found the body of one soldier lying face down in the rocks. The dark hair told him immediately who it was.

A few seconds later, he came across the other, wounded. He was propped up on one elbow, holding his short sword in front of him. Two barbarians lay dead at his feet. Downriver, another Syvak was wading through the water toward him, grinning like a carnivorous predator over its fallen prey.

Kael ran to the wounded soldier and took the sword from his hand. “Can you walk?”

“Is this the best time to ask?” he replied, shocked by Kael’s calm demeanor.

“Don’t worry about him; he’ll be dead in just a few seconds. Can you walk?” he repeated.

“Uh…I think so!”

“Good,” Kael said with a grunt, helping the man to his feet. Turning around boldly, he stared at the barbarian who now seemed unnerved that this newcomer didn’t wear a look of fear. Kael marched toward the man, entering the ankle-deep water with such confidence that the Syvak took a step backward and stumbled.

Kael lunged at him with the first sign of weakness.

The barbarian stepped back again and stumbled, sending out a flailing arm to regain his balance.

Kael slashed quickly, severing the limb at the elbow. The Syvak’s forearm spun through the air and landed with a splash.

Falling backward into the water, the man stared in disbelief at the remains of his arm.

Kael surged forward again and plunged the Orud short sword into the man’s chest, forcing his body under the water. He held the sword in place for a few seconds before pulling it free.

The body sluggishly began to drift downriver.

Shaking off the blood and water, Kael wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of his shirt and walked back to the soldier standing on the bank.

The Orud soldier accepted the sword without a word.

“How badly are you injured?”

“I’ll live. I’ll limp for the rest of my life, but I’ll live” he responded, looking down at the deep gash in his leg.

Kael looked around to see the other dead barbarians. “You fought well today.”

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed as the man struggled to find the words to show his appreciation. Instead, he stepped forward, wincing in pain, and extended his hand. “My name is Caius…and I’m honored to travel with you.”

Kael accepted his handshake. “…and I, you!”

The night was cold without a fire and neither man had the stomach to eat anyway. The day’s confrontation and the loss of a friend had sapped their energy. Both went to sleep as soon as the sun began to set. The next morning was bright and most of the chill was gone from the air. Kael had to wake Caius, who looked pale and exhausted.

“Can you ride?”

“Always,” he replied with a defiant smile. “What’s the plan?”

“The men we encountered yesterday were either scouts or sentries. It’s good, but not enough of a confirmation. We need to cross the river and follow the southeastern fork.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Caius replied.

As planned, the two crossed the river and followed the southeastern fork along its southern bank. By midday, the land began to rise around them and they moved away from the river to maintain a vantage over the water. Kael decided to stick close to Caius as his wound wouldn’t allow them to travel apart safely. After a gradual rise in elevation, they spurred their horses up a final steep and rocky grade, arriving at the top of a short mountain. The view stretched out for miles.

Following the river bend, Kael’s eyes traced the landscape for any sign of confirmation of his theory.

Breathing heavily, Caius squinted into the sun. “If I were a sentry, this would be my choice for a post.”

“Indeed,” Kael replied. “In fact, I’m surprised that we didn’t encounter someone as soon as we crested the hill.”

“Maybe there isn’t a larger group,” Caius offered.

After a long pause, Kael responded. “Or maybe it’s because they’re on the move and this location has already been scouted.”

Caius turned and followed Kael’s outstretched arm pointing to the northeast.

“…the cloud of dust, just below the horizon.”

“I see it. There must be three of four hundred of them.”

“Yes. It looks like they’re on foot.” Kael turned to look at Caius. “I apologize, my friend. We don’t have time for you to rest and heal. We have to ride fast to warn
Leoran
.”

“I understand.”

“Is this enough confirmation for you?”

“…plenty. Just give me a minute to change my dressing and we can get going,” Caius replied, reaching down to the blood-soaked bandage on his leg.

He dismounted and removed the wet bandages, only to find that the wound had reopened since the morning. The bleeding was considerably less than the previous day, but still more than Kael wanted to see. It was a difficult situation considering the urgency of their information, but Kael couldn’t ride ahead and leave this man alone in his current state.

Caius bound the wound with a tight dressing, remounted his horse and nodded to Kael. Kael nodded in return and turned his horse back to the west where he had noted a decent point to cross the river earlier in the morning.

Traveling was slow through the mountainous terrain, but sped considerably as the land began to flatten. A week after setting out from the river fork, Kael and Caius came across the trail of Dacien and his men. They had apparently moved inland from the coast to take advantage of the easier route. After studying the remains of one particular camping spot, Kael estimated that they would be more than a week ahead. He told this to Caius with the conclusion that they would not rejoin their companions before they reached
Leoran
. He didn’t add that it was mainly Caius’ wound that would keep this from happening; the man had enough to deal with.

At the midpoint of their six week journey to
Leoran
, Kael began to notice a drastic decline in Caius’ health. The final straw came one afternoon as Kael was following. He put Caius in the lead, hoping that deciding which route to take would keep Caius’ mind occupied, away from the pain. As they began a slight decline into a shaded valley, Caius slipped from his horse and landed awkwardly in the dirt. Kael quickly dismounted.

“Are you alright?”

The man only groaned in pain, lying face down on the ground.

Kael lifted his head and saw that his eyes would not focus. “We’ll stop here for the evening. Just close your eyes and rest; I’ll take care of everything. Just rest,” he repeated.

After carrying him to a more secluded location, Kael built a small fire and gave Caius some water. He wouldn’t take food, even in small amounts, and eventually, Kael stopped trying to force him. After a few hours, Caius slipped into a deep sleep. Kael took advantage of the dying sunlight and inspected the unconscious man’s bindings.

The outer bandage was clean, but as Kael unwound it he could quickly see that the wound was festering. The inner bandage was saturated with a yellowish fluid and when removed, the skin showed itself to be bright red in a large area around the wound. The gash was covered over with a putrid-smelling greenish scab and it was obvious that infection had set in. Kael sat back and slumped to the ground, frustrated by the thought of what this man would have to endure in the next few days.

Sometime during the night, Caius began to moan in pain. Kael checked his forehead and confirmed that he had a fever. Neither of them slept at all the rest of the night, as Kael made regular trips to a small stream nearby for fresh water. Midmorning on the next day, Caius started vomiting and couldn’t keep down even water. The minutes stretched into hours and the hours into days. Kael knew that he was losing precious time but he had to see Caius through the worst. And that time eventually came the following morning when Caius shook Kael awake.

“What…” Kael mumbled, disoriented. “How are you feeling,” he asked, as soon as he came to his senses.

“Better,” Caius replied. “How long have I been out?”

“…a few days. Can you eat?”

“I’ll try a little.”

Kael rose and immediately set to making a light broth over the fire. When it was prepared, he gave a small cup to Caius and watched the feeble man try to consume the hot liquid.

After seeing him take a few sips, Kael smiled and then spoke. “Listen. You’re not fit to travel. And I have to notify Dacien of what we’ve seen.”

“I know,” Caius responded with a downcast look, disappointed with himself.

“I can leave you my waterskin and the rest of my rations, which should last you another few weeks. As soon as I reach
Leoran
, I’ll send a rider to come back for you.”

As Kael spoke, Caius reached to his shoulder and unfastened his torc, allowing the red cloak of Orud to fall to the ground. At this, the man winced, not for the pain, but the dishonor of allowing the cloak to touch the ground, unattached to his uniform. Without the strength to pick it up, he gestured to it. “Take it. Dacien will never believe you otherwise.”

Kael quickly knelt and lifted the cloak from the dirt. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do before I leave?”

“You’ve done plenty. Now go quickly. You hold the lives of many more than just mine in your hands.”

After a few minutes of readying his horse and supplies, Kael mounted and looked down to his friend. “I’ll send someone back.”

“I know you will. If I don’t get the chance later, I want to thank you for saving my life.”

“Of course,” Kael replied. “But you will have another chance. You owe me an ale the next time we meet.”

“Fair enough,” Caius laughed.

Kael nodded to his friend, then turned his horse to the north and kicked his steed into motion.

Chapter 9

The travel on foot had been grueling, but fortunately Maeryn, Aelia, and the freed slaves of
Bastul
were getting close to their destination. One more day to the north would bring them to a point along the eastern coast where they would meet up with Thaddius. The former Commissioner of
Bastul
had planned to take the first third of the slaves to their
hideout
on the island of
Tur’cen
and return to rendezvous with Maeryn’s group.

Lost in thought, a commotion at the front of the group caught Maeryn by surprise.

The lead scout was running back along the column of travelers toward her. “My lady. Thaddius has returned.”

Maeryn looked to where the man was pointing. Out in the ocean were several white dots floating in contrast with the deep blue water. “Perhaps he grew impatient with our progress,” Maeryn replied.

“Indeed,” came the reply with a smile.

Another hour brought the two groups together in a joyous reunion on the shore. Thaddius relayed that the trip was a success and that all was exactly as planned at their island encampment. This instantly gave hope to all who heard. Suddenly, their struggle seemed to have purpose and their efforts were not in vain. After the reunion, they moved a mile to the north where the terrain offered a bit of seclusion from any patrols that might pass by. The sun fell quickly, but the weary travelers were now experts at setting up camp. As the sky darkened, the smell of cooking food filled the air.