The Grim Wanderer (50 page)

Taem felt the blaze grow in warmth threefold, as Hirandar stored the Fire Draught back in her pack. The companions all heartily thanked the Wizard.

‘No use in secreting ourselves with a small fire,’ Hirandar grinned, warming her hands on the roaring blaze, ‘if we die from the cold.’

Glancing up from the fire, Taem saw faint slivers of glowing green out in the darkness. They were sinister lights in the black. Those green slits sent a shiver across his shoulders. Taem looked out into the night and saw another set. And another. They were all around!

‘We’re surrounded!’ Taem leapt up and drew his blade.

‘
Odrin do shelter us
!’ Forgrun rocketed to his feet, and held up his axe.

‘Sit down,’ Logan whispered. ‘Do not leave the firelight!’

‘
Do not show movement!’
Hirandar yelled.

The black shadows, with their beady green eyes, crept up to the edge of the firelight. Their growls and snarling encircled the companions. Taem trembled as he saw they were monsters from the worst nightmares. Saliva bubbled between huge teeth in gaping jaws, glistening in the firelight as it dripped to the snowy ground. Their glowing green eyes emanated malevolence.

Taem gripped Estellarum’s hilt, and held the Starblade up to form a barrier between him and the darkness. He tried to steady his shaking hands. The Nemeth emerged from the shadows, taking form from the darkness, and Taem now knew the horror of which Forgrun had spoke. Countless terrifying creatures stalked towards them from out of the murk of night.

He felt Logan and Hirandar get to their feet, and Taem heard the whisper of metal on leather as Logan drew his sword.

‘Back creatures of shadow!’ Hirandar roared. A bright white light shone from the Wizard’s staff, lighting up the snows like the daylight, to reveal at least fifty of the horrific beasts. The creatures let out ear-piercing screams. Those screams grated on Taem’s bones, and made his muscles shiver. He thought the beasts were crying out in pain at the brightness of the light, but it was agony for any listener to endure. Baek, Jvarna and Drual cupped their ears with their hands, in a futile attempt to keep the cries out. Taem’s whole body convulsed against the horrific noise.

Hirandar fired tendrils of fire at the fleeing Nemeth, catching some of them as they loped off to hide, igniting their black fur and engulfing them in flame. This brought ashen wailing different – but no better – than the ear-wrenching screams. Hirandar’s staff faded so there was nothing but firelight again. For a few moments, Taem could perceive only fire and black, until his eyes readjusted to the dimness of night.

‘I hope Isornel was far enough away,’ Hirandar muttered, ‘that he did not feel any of that firework display. But perhaps that is too much to wish for.’

‘They will not return tonight,’ Logan sheathed his blade. ‘But we will keep watch anyway.’

‘Ye Nemeth do kill fer delight o’ slaughter,’ Forgrun shuddered as he sat back down by the fire. ‘An’ be playin’ with their food before they be killing it, if they do get ye chance.’

Forgrun sounded like he was telling a ghost story to children, sat round the campfire, but these evil creatures were anything but fable.

‘What is with those green eyes?’ Baek said fearfully, as he crouched with his back to the fire.

‘My people do say,’ Forgrun stared out into the darkness, and held his axe across his body, ready to strike, ‘there be mountains o’ good temperament that do welcome travellers. ‘An’ mountains o’ black intentions, where rocks be dislodgin’ themselves an’ storms do try ter whip yhee off cliff edges–’

‘Unfounded superstition,’ Hirandar scoffed.

‘Ye Rhungars say,’ Forgrun continued, undeterred. ‘Ye Nemeth be angry spirits o’ evil mountains, who do nay like trespassers walkin’ in thine high peaks.’

Taem could see the Rhungar’s story had a lot of the companions convinced, and he had to urge himself not to tremble. Drual’s gaze shifted around the encircling dark. The rogue cradled his crossbow, finding reassurance in its leather handle. Baek’s eyes were wide with terror, and Jvarna whetted her spear blade, her hands shaking.

‘Whatever they are,’ Logan said dauntlessly. ‘The Nemeth feel steel as sharply as any other creature.’

Taem saw how all his companions took heart from Logan’s words, as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Even Ragad seemed more relaxed, as he let the massive head of his warhammer rest against the snow.

‘Come on, rest now,’ Logan sat down and got under his blankets, and gestured for the others to do the same. The Sodan Master kept his gaze towards the darkness.

None of the company could relax though, knowing what was out there. No one easily fell to sleep, even though they knew they had friends to watch over them. Taem kept seeing green eyes out in the dark, and he would shoot upright and reach for his sword. He looked around, searching for the Nemeth, and realised he was imaging them in his nightmares. Taem saw two of his friends awake and watching the night, and tried to return to his troubled sleep, laying shuddering in the cold dark.

At the first sign of daylight, the companions were up and packing their blankets into backpacks, keen to get walking and bring warmth to their frozen muscles.

‘Where are all the Nemeth dead?’ Baek gestured around the camp. ‘I saw Hirandar destroy them with fire magic, but where are the bodies?’

‘They nay be easy ter kill,’ Forgrun said darkly.

‘No, they eat their own dead,’ Logan said strongly.

‘Especially if it’s been roasted,’ Drual quipped in, and everyone laughed, even Forgrun – who seemed to be dwelling on the legends he had heard since he was a child.

For once, Taem thought, Drual had managed to say something at a delicate moment that
eased
tension.

They walked through the snow that morning, and passed some hardy evergreens in rare sheltered spots by the trailside. Today, everyone in the company leapt to gather or cut down anything that could be burnt on a fire. They all now knew the extra weight would be well worth the burden, once night set in, and the Nemeth lurked out in the dark.

‘I am afraid, Taem,’ Baek whispered, as they trudged through snow, at the back of the company.

‘Why are you afraid?’ Taem whispered, so none of the other companions would hear.

‘I am not a legendary hero like the Grim Wanderer,’ Baek nodded at Logan, ‘I am not a great warrior like you – or even Forgrun,’ Baek said grudgingly, ‘I’m not strong like Ragad and I have no magic like Hirandar. I was
terrified
last night when the Nemeth came – I am ashamed to say it, but I was.’ Baek stared down at the snow as he walked. ‘And now we are in this cold and dangerous place, and I’m asking myself if I should even be here. I do not know how much more I can take.’

‘Baek,’ Taem said strongly, ‘you are the best shot I have
ever
seen. And you are a better swordsman than you give yourself credit for. You had the strength of will to survive that arduous journey, wounded and close to death, through Borleon. And even after all that, you became a hero of your people in the battle of Leafholme. If those are not the actions of a great warrior, then I do not know what are,’ Taem nodded, causing Baek to smile. ‘You are an important part of this company, and you are my good friend.’ Taem patted the Aborle on the shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ Baek murmured.

‘We all get frightened,’ Taem whispered, ‘I thought we were dead last night. It’s only natural–’

‘Logan is never afraid,’ Baek said wearily, ‘
ever
.’

‘As you said yourself,’ Taem said softly, ‘Logan is a hero of legend. He was born to be a warrior. We are fortunate to have him lead us.’

‘I think we would panic and flee,’ Baek murmured, ‘if his will was not holding us together.’

Taem nodded, ‘The Light is with us, Baek.’ Taem respectfully touched his sword hilt.

‘You don’t actually believe that though,’ Baek whispered, ‘do you? I believe we are out here all alone. There is no Light to save us, out in these dark mountains.’

I believe in you, Baek,’ Taem said fiercely, ‘and the strength of the company. If we stay together we will get through this.’

Baek nodded at his friend, and looked up to the mountain peak above, as they waded on through snow.

‘You’re a good friend, Taem,’ Baek smiled. ‘Your determination is extraordinary. I have never known anyone like you,’

‘You honour me by your words,’ Taem put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘I think we have both succeeded in making the other feel better, agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ Baek grinned. ‘That is what friends are for.’

‘Right,’ Taem smiled, as he ploughed through deeper snow, ‘then let’s catch up our other friends, before they miss us.’

By midday the trail became jagged and irregular. The clouds had grown dark, and snow fell as the company drudged on, wrapped in their blankets to keep in whatever warmth they could. The Hand of Fire’s path had started to cross stone bridges spanning the many deep ravines. Forgrun examined every bridge before any of the company took it – which they only did one person at a time.

‘Most o’ these bridges,’ Forgrun scrutinised the stone foundations, ‘be stood since before ye Lost Realms be first lost. But this be Rhungari craft,’ he said proudly, ‘and it be standin’ fer another age yet.’

But Taem could see the cracks and missing blocks in those ancient stone bridges, and he did not feel safe as he crept across them. He tried not to look down, at the snowy valleys far below. Taem saw the dubious look in the eyes of his other companions. Jvarna was hesitant to step out onto the crumbling bridges, and Baek at first refused – but the others always managed to coax the Aborle across.

After a few crossings with bated breath, the path turned to reveal a gap fifty yards across, and a drop of miles down to the ground beneath. Taem saw how it was traversed by a spindly bridge, of frayed rope and broken slats, layered in snow. A cold wind whistled across the gaping crevasse, and the rope bridge swayed with the breeze. Jvarna gasped as the rope bridge pendulumed over the wide ravine. Hirandar stared through the snowstorm, with doubt in her eyes. Taem took in a deep breath. The rope bridge looked so fragile that the extra weight of the falling snow might send it tumbling into the ravine. That falling snow was now so dense that he could barely make out the path, on the other side of the ravine.

No way
, Taem thought to himself.

‘Looks like it could fall any second,’ Baek murmured.

‘I’m not stepping on that!’ Drual held his hands up in protest.

‘Is there any other way?’ Jvarna asked fearfully, as she turned to the Wizard.

Forgrun pressed the posts embedded in the rock, ran his eye down the length of the bridge, and shook his head.

‘We have to cross,’ Logan said firmly. ‘It is too late to turn back.’

But Taem saw the pensive way Hirandar’s forehead crinkled up, and Taem knew by the Wizard’s silence she was reluctant.

‘It be folly!’ Forgrun tested the tension in the rope, and found the wooden posts were loose in their foundations.

‘We’ll have to go back and take the other fork,’ Jvarna turned to face the way back. ‘That bridge will break,’ Drual watched the bridge sway in the wind.

‘What rope do we have?’ Logan said.

‘Not nearly enough,’ Baek’s shoulders drooped.

Taem felt the company slump into a depressed mood. He shivered as he pulled his hood forward, in a vain attempt to deflect some of the biting wind. The situation was bleak. The sky was dark, snow was falling heavy, and it was cold beyond freezing. They were in one of the most inhospitable places in Hathlore – bar only the Shadowlands – and to go forward was perilous, but the thought of traipsing back the way they had come was worse than anything else.

‘I'll go across,’ Ragad said quietly.

‘It can’t be done.’ Drual said at the same time. ‘
What did you just say
?’ The rogue gawked at the Northman.

Everyone gaped at the barbarian in amazement.

‘I said,’ Ragad stared over the ravine, ‘I will cross the bridge. If it can take my weight it can take anyone’s – even yours, Forgrun.’ Ragad let out a rare smile.

Ragad stepped onto the rickety bridge, which creaked and swayed under the huge man’s bulk. Before anyone could hold him back, the Croma began to advance across the spindly bridge.

Forgrun let out a low whistle as the others watched anxiously. Step by step, Ragad edged forward through the swirling snow, both hands grabbing onto ropes either side. Some steps stretched over gaping holes in the bridge, over nothing but air and an endless descent below. Ragad slipped, and the watching companions gasped as his foot went through a slat, and he clamped his hands onto rope. But Ragad regained his footing, and crept onto the other side. All the other companions cheered with relief, as the giant Croma stepped onto firm rock again.

‘Ragad is a man of courage,’ Logan stared across the crevasse, nodding his head at the great Northman.

‘I have never seen the like of it,’ Baek said in disbelief.

‘Aye,’ Forgrun nodded. ‘Odrin himself be watchin’ ye Croma across ye bridge.’