The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher (20 page)

              Not long after this, an emissary from the Blackwoods reported to the King that Causton had sought an alliance with their Lady of the Woods in a “holy war” against Walechia.  When she refused, Causton had threatened to destroy Avalos (also known as The Secret City); capitol of The Blackwoods and they asked Philas for help.  King Philas sent an expedition of five hundred men into the hills and just like had happened years before, this expedition was wiped out in a surprise attack.

              Weeks later, Causton and an army of over three thousand emerged from the forests and marched on the Northern Wall.  They marched on the “Merchant’s Gate” at Post Number Two and threatened to burn the fort and kill all the soldiers stationed there; unless the fort was surrendered.  The fort’s young Captain, named Banner refused and Causton’s army attacked.  For three days and nights, they attacked in wave after wave of constant infantry assaults.  The garrison at the fort held back each assault losing only seventeen men.  At the end of the third day, a force of over five thousand Walechian troops arrived and Causton’s army withdrew into the Badlands.  Again, Philas assumed that this latest of Causton’s movements would die out; especially in the inhospitable Badlands.

              A year later, Causton’s army again emerged from the Hills and raced across the Great Plain, destroying farms and murdering civilians.  Once again, rumors circulated that it had actually been Philas who had been responsible.  However, again Philas outmaneuvered Causton.  He had a large section of forest bordering Walechia and the Hills cut down, increasing the distance it would take Causton’s army to escape.  When Causton’s army eventually marched along the Plain, King Philas encircled Causton’s forces outside Kallesh and cut them off from escaping back into the Hills.

              Foolishly, Causton attempted to attack Kallesh; even using a giant stone battering ram to try and break down the Iron Gates.  The gates held and Causton’s army was decimated.  Hescil was captured and executed, along with other captured military leaders.  Causton again escaped and several expeditions sent over a period of five years failed to find him.  King Philas assumed then that Causton must have died somewhere in the Badlands.

              Many questions remained about this second war.  One persistent question settled around the origin of the giant battering ram used against the Iron Gates.  Rumors began to circulate that it had been obtained from Masallah, based on its design and fine stone construction.  Their King Mussah refused to answer when asked.  Philas didn’t press the issue at the time; but suspicion remained.

Chapter Twenty Four

              When Terri woke up, both Captain Krall and Kenner were already gone.  She had a feeling that she wanted to get started on her own journey as soon as possible; but then remembered that Captain Krall had ordered her to rest for a full day before leaving the hide.  She ate a few apples and some cheese; then stood over the barrel of ale and told it, “looks like you and me are going to be good friends today.”

It didn’t take long for her to find herself bored and restless.  There was no one to talk to and nothing to do and she still felt the urge to just leave and get as far as she could.  Yes, she thought to herself, Captain Krall had given her an order; but he would never know if she had disobeyed.  In addition, she had vital information to deliver and though she tried not to think too much on the subject, she doubted that either the Captain or her new friend would survive their journeys.  The Captain’s route was virtually suicidal and Kenner, although a good fighter didn’t look quite tough enough to handle the mountain pass.  Thinking on this, she took a deep drink of her ale; as if to wash these depressing thoughts away.

Trying to keep herself occupied, she searched through some boxes on floor.  She found maps, clothing (men’s’, of course), some copper and silver coins; which she thought might eventually become useful.  Inside a larger box, she found a small, red box with the golden chalice emblem of Sheyron.  “No, it can’t be.” She said aloud.  She opened the box and found herself grinning from ear to ear.  Cigars.  “This day just got a whole lot better.” She said.

Tobacco was a delicacy known to Masallah and Walechia; however cigars came only from Sheyron.  How they were made or obtained was a deeply held secret.  (No one really knew if tobacco was traded with the Blackwoods).  And while pipe tobacco was easily obtainable and relatively cheap, cigars were rare and expensive.  In her life, Terri had only had them a few times and each time had been special.  Here in this hide she had found an entire box of them; which she recognized from having seen a box before.  Having been anxious to leave before, she found herself quite content to stay in the hide for the remainder of the day.

It took her nearly two hours (she guessed) to smoke the first one and she was feeling relaxed and in a much better mood.  Naturally, she lit a second one.  She had never smoked two in a row before and only half the way through the second one, she began to feel dizzy.  She felt her heart beating faster and head light.  Perhaps seven cups of ale and two cigars in succession wasn’t such a good idea, she told herself.  She tried to stand up, but found it nearly impossible.  “I think I’ll just sit here a while longer.”  And then she passed out.

It was dark when she awoke; so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.  The torch she had lit the evening before had long burned out.  Her head felt hurt and her stomach felt as if it had a rock inside of it.  Clearly, she thought she had overdone it on the ale and the cigars.

From outside the hide, she could hear movement and whispering voices.

“Do you smell something?” One of the voices asked.  It was low and rough, almost like an animal’s growl

“I do sir,” a similar voice answered.  “But it’s strange.  It’s not like any man smell I’ve smelled before.”

              Terri heard the voices and movement for several more minutes and was sure they would eventually find the hide.  At any second, she thought she would see the red eyes of a Wolfen peek inside.  Even though she couldn’t see, she slowly drew her short sword.  But what good would it do, she argued with herself?  She could hear several voices outside the cave and even if she did manage to kill one of them, the rest would tear her to pieces.  She sat as quietly as she could, even making sure her breathing was silent.  The voices and footsteps moved seemed to move in virtually every direction around the opening; but never inside.  At one point, she thought she could hear them moving away, but then they sounded closer.  In a few moments, the voices and movement sounded like they were at the opening of the hide itself.

“Do you smell it again?”

“Yes, but I can’t tell from where.”

“He’s imagining things.” Said another voice.  “He can’t smell anything and neither can I.  We’re wasting our time.”

Terri then thought she could hear them run off away from the hide, but she wasn’t sure.  She stayed in her spot looking in the direction of the opening with her blade drawn.

              After a while, light began to filter through into the hide.  Soon, she found that she could see inside the hide and if she could, she reasoned someone or something else could as well.  She cautiously went to the opening and looked around.  She could see nothing.  Then she climbed to the top of a tall rock and looked around her.  She could see the rock formations immediately around her and she could see the river close by.  Off in the distance, with the sun rising in the east, she could still see wisps of smoke coming from where the fort had been.  It was at least three miles away and in such ruin, it was difficult to believe that anything built by human hands had ever been there at all.  Half way from the smoldering remains of the fort towards the river, she saw smoke coming from another pile.  At first she didn’t know what it was; but felt sick to her stomach when she realized its nature.  It was the bodies of the brave men who had died at the fort.  They had been burned like trash.

              What she couldn’t see was the Wolfen army.  She could see large volumes of tracks in the muddy ground moving off to the south and concluded that the main body of the force had to be, at least 10 miles away, based on how fast she knew an army of men could move.  This army could potentially move faster and so, it was possible they were even further away.  But still, she remembered there were those whom she had heard only a couple of hours before.  She didn’t actually see them; and therefore didn’t know for a fact that they were Wolfen.  Given their references to smelling and their gruff voices, it seemed reasonable that they were and likely hunting for survivors.  She would need to be extra careful, she thought.

              At the same time, she knew she couldn’t linger.  It was, at least three miles to the ruins of the fort and then another fifteen across open ground to the forest bordering the Blackwoods.  She would need to run at a steady pace, she thought to herself as to not become too tired too quickly.  On the other hand, if she ran too slowly, she would be caught by anything that may be searching for her.  Thinking that, she was reminded that no matter how fast or slow she did run, the Wolfen were faster than her.

“I’m screwed no matter what,” she said to herself.

             
She went back into the hide, packed lightly, and slung her bow across her shoulders and a quiver full of arrows.  She climbed the rock again to look for anything she could see.  Finding nothing, she climbed to the ground, left the outcropping took a couple of deep breaths and then started her running.

              She kept a steady pace and looked only at the ground directly in front of her.  To regulate her breathing, she sang a cadence song she’d learned in her four weeks of training at Kallesh.  “Give me my little black long bow…and a quiver of arrows…all I really want to see…are bodies, bodies, bodies…”  Her headache and her nausea thankfully left her and she felt a burst of energy after the first mile was behind her.  Her pack began to loosen on her shoulders and it started to bounce more.  She would have to tighten it when she had a chance, she thought.  Her legs kept churning and her feet beat out a constant rhythm until she found herself coming to the ruins of the fort.  She stopped to rest, being careful to stand straight up and not bend over in order to prevent cramping.  She made herself take deep, long breaths instead of panting and put her hands on top of her head to expand her lungs.

              She walked carefully through the remains of the fort.  The blockhouse with the Captain’s quarters was only a shell and the stone walls of the barracks were charred black.  The stables were only a pile of, what looked like firewood with smoke still billowing out of them.  The wooden walls were also collapsed and there was no evidence at all of the gate.  Pausing and looking around, she found herself hearing the shouting, yelling and horrible screams of the men fighting and dying.  She found herself wanting to cry, but then stopped herself.  She didn’t have time to grieve at the moment, she reminded herself.  She made her way through the rubble and after tightening her pack on her shoulders began running again.

              It wasn’t the first time she had this far.  In training, they had run as far as twenty miles with full packs and in full formation.  But she was running at a faster pace this time, feeling as if anyone pursuing her could come up behind her at any second.  Her first two miles were much like the miles before reaching the fort.  She continued on, still singing her song.  “Give me one more sharpened blade…send those traitors to their graves…all I really want to see…is blood soaked, blood soaked, bodies…”

              With the sun continuing to rise behind her, she felt sweat beginning to pool under her pack.  Sweat was also beginning to bead on her head and her scalp began to itch.  She was still doing well with her breathing, but it began to become more effort than just singing to keep it regulated.  She concentrated hard and counted to herself.  “In for five…out for five…”  She felt a cramp, almost being stabbed in her side and her legs began to feel heavier.  She looked up and saw the line of trees of the forest beginning to get closer.

              She felt as if an hour had gone by and step by step, she kept coming closer to the woods.  Her breath had become shallower and harder.  Her legs felt heavier and her footsteps sounded louder.  She was no longer able to sing.  She tried hard to breathe regularly, but each breath was becoming a chore.  When she looked up, she saw the forest in front of her starting to shake from side to side as her running had become more labored.  Her body wanted to stop and her mind began to play tricks on her.  “Just for a second…just to catch my breath,” she heard her voice in her head telling her.  “Must keep going.” She repeated aloud.  She looked up again and still the forest came closer.