The Southern Trail (Book 4) (26 page)

Ellersbine sat down next to him, the line of light between her and Marco moving around the count and passing through the tree trunk to reach Marco.  Marco moved slightly, and the foggy trace shifted to pass directly in front of Argen.

Marco reached out and waved his hand through the line, watching it stay unaltered or perturbed by the motions.

“What are you doing?” Argen asked in an annoyed tone.

Marco looked at Ellersbine.

“Don’t you see it?” he asked the nobleman.

“See what?” Argen asked.

“I saw it,” Ellersbine spoke.  “There was a swarm of gnats in front of Marco,” she explained.

“Here, let me give you some of the wrappings from my feet,” she spoke to Argen as she pulled her own boot off her left foot, and tore her cloth wrappings into two strips, then gave one to Argen.

They started walking again minutes later, slower to accommodate the Count’s limp.

“What route are you taking us on?” Argen asked a half hour later.

“I don’t know,” Marco admitted.  “I’m just following the trail south.”

“We could walk a thousand miles and not find anything!” Argen protested.

“What path do you recommend?” Marco stopped and turned to face the man.  His hands felt sweaty in the leather gloves, and he wanted to take them off, to let his hands breath, but he didn’t dare to reveal their color.

“We’ll find a river sooner or later, probably the Baken,” Argen told him.  “Follow it west and we’ll find our way home.”

They walked on until they came to another grove of trees.  “Let’s have something to eat,” Ellersbine suggested.  She too was starting to limp, Marco noticed.  They dropped their packs, then spread out by unspoken mutual agreement.  Marco watched the line of light that stretched away from him, then followed it to find Ellersbine.

“Marco!” she exclaimed, turning from him as she hurriedly buckled her pants.

“Here, close your eyes,” Marco told her quietly stepping up next to her.

She obeyed him, and he could feel her trust in him, a gratifying sensation.  He slipped the glove off his left hand and slid his finger into her mouth.  She had tasted the water from his finger once before, when they had been in the process of abandoning their damaged ship, and she automatically sipped the sweet water that flowed easily.

Marco withdrew his finger, then hastily regloved his hand as the girl opened her eyes.

“Thank you, that is so refreshing,” she told him, smiling at him.  “How do you do that?”

“We better get back,” Marco answered.  “You go that way, I’ll go this way,” he evaded answering the question.

“You’re hiding something,” she said forthrightly.

“Tonight, I promise I’ll tell you everything,” he told her.

“Everything?” she pressed

“Ellersbine?” they heard Argen call.

“Everything,” he assured her.

She looked into his eyes, hers bright, then she darted away.  He turned and started in the opposite direction, and returned to the opening in the grove minutes later, as Argen and Ellersbine sat silently on a fallen tree, eating food from their packs.  Marco took some from his, and joined the others in eating.  They ate ravenously, and he wondered what they had been fed while they were held captive.

“Let’s get going,” Marco said ten minutes later.

“What’s the rush?” Argen asked.  “We’re nobility, not commoners.  We don’t need to wear ourselves down the way you want to.”

“The rush is that we won’t get anywhere unless we start moving,” Marco answered.  “We’ve only got the food we’re carrying, and when it runs out, we’re out.  We need to go as far as we can each day, and not waste any time.”

He stood up, and looked at the other two.  Ellersbine also stood.  “There’s no great joy in just sitting in this grove, my lord,” she said to Argen.  He grumbled, but stood up as well, and they resumed their journey.

That afternoon they made slow progress, as Argen finally took his boots off and walked barefoot, carefully choosing his steps across the plains.  During the midafternoon, they saw a large herd of animals the size of cows grazing on the grasses that grew across the vast open space.  Marco paid little attention, until he heard a snarl, and saw a large predator, the biggest cat he had ever seen, glide silently by in the grass, ignoring the three humans as it stalked the young animals around the perimeter of the herd.

He hadn’t been aware of such animals, and he realized that he had focused his expectations of trouble solely on humans, without considering the other threats that existed.  Moments later, he saw a second cat follow the first stalker.

“Let’s start running, shall we?” he said to the other two.

“Why?  What for?  My feet hurt badly enough now,” Argen argued.

“Did you see those two lions that went by?” Marco asked.

“Lions?  I didn’t see anything,” Argen answered.  “You’re imagining things.”

At that moment, a ring of men rose of out of the grass all around them.  The men held spears, and wore clothes that were woven from the tall grasses of the plains, allowing them to blend in and camouflage themselves easily.

The trio of travelers stopped.

“If you didn’t see the lions, I hope you can at least see the men around us,” Marco said sarcastically to Argen.  He reached for his sword.

“Stop!” one of the hunters around them told Marco.  “Don’t move.”

The men began to move in towards them, tightening the circle that surrounded Marco and the others.

“Of course there were lions,” the speaker for the men said as he closed in.  “The one who is nearly blind is correct, and the one who is totally blind is wrong.”

“Come no closer,” Marco said.  “I warn you to maintain your distance from us.  We mean you no harm; we’re just traveling through on our way to Foulata.”

“You have a long way to go, if you make it,” responded the other man.

Marco raised his right hand, closed his eye, and called upon the sorcery of his hand to create a protective shield around his companions.  He had hoped to avoid making such a public display in front of Argen and Ellersbine – particularly Argen – but he didn’t see any choice.

A blue shield suddenly appeared, a half circle dome that emerged from the ground just two feet in front of the closest of the men around them.  There was a collective shout by the men, one that was so loud it made the grazing animals nearby turn their heads towards the unfolding drama.  The increased attentiveness of the animals spooked the hunting lions, who seemed to conclude they had to strike immediately or miss their chance to capture a meal; three of them rose from the grass and bounded towards the herd, making the great herd bolt instantly, with a thundering departure that Marco felt shake the ground beneath his feet.

He only realized he felt the vibrations after the fact however.  As soon as he used his powers to establish the dome around them, the cord of energy between himself and Ellersbine shrank in size, and grew much more tenuous in its appearance.  The princess turned pale, and swayed alarmingly, before she leaned against Argen for support.

“What in the name of the king?” Argen exclaimed, more shocked by the dramatic appearance of the dome than worried about the health of the princess.

Marco closed his eyes to focus on the withdrawal of his energy from the dome, and the edifice evaporated.  He opened his eyes, and saw that his connection to Ellersbine immediately grew stronger again, and she straightened herself upright once again.

“Do not trouble us, or troubles will descend upon you,” Marco told the leader of the attackers.

All the men had backed away from the trail at the sight of the glowing dome.  They had exhaled audibly in relief when the dome had disappeared.

“I will give you this opportunity to leave us in peace,” Marco threatened.  “If you do not, your men will die, one by one, and you will be the first to die.”

“Your colors in the air were impressive, but they did not last long,” the local man answered.  “I do not think you have the ability to withstand all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Marco said.  “I wish I did not have to take another life.” He raised his left hand, and called upon his new-found ability to withdraw energy from the man.  A flash of light left the man and traveled to Marco’s left hand, then the man collapsed to the ground.

“Will there be another?” Marco asked, looking around at the men.

Without discussion, they all began to step away.

“Wait,” Marco pointed his hand at another man.  “Do not go yet, or this man will die.

“We seek to go to Foulata, what is the fastest way to get there, and how long will it take?” he asked.

“There is a river ahead, one more day’s march,” a man to Marco’s right called.  “Follow it to the west, and in a week you’ll come to a town, where the river is deep enough for boats.  That will be your fastest way.”

“Go now.  Go all of you, and do not trouble us, or allow anyone else to trouble us on this journey,” Marco told the men.  He raised his right hand and fired a bolt of energy straight up into the sky, releasing the energy he had taken from the man he had killed.  “And you may take your friend with you if you wish.”

Two men rushed over to the dead man’s body, while the others all edged back into the grass.  The air around them was growing thick with dust, as the cloud raised by the stampeding herd of grazers drifted towards the trail, allowing the men to quickly disappear from sight.

“Stones and darkness!  You’re a sorcerer?” Argen exclaimed.

“Are you remembering all the things you said and did?” Marco glowered at the count.  He was angry about the circumstances.  He had wanted to neither have to kill a man, nor to reveal his abilities to Argen.  Because of the attempted ambush, he had done both.

“We’re all safe and free; that’s all that matters,” Ellersbine spoke.  “Let’s not fight each other,” she told the two men.

“Thank you for saving us,” she added, as Marco’s stare shifted from Argen to her.

“You’re welcome,” he said.  He looked around, then straightened his pack on his back.  “Let’s get going.  We know what we’ve got ahead of us.”  He didn’t look back as he started following the trail again.

His mind slowly finished processing the thoughts about the conflict and the revelation to Argen, and he began to think about what had happened to Ellersbine.  When he had used his sorcery power to erect the dome to protect them all, it had diminished the strength of the energy cord between he and the princess, and she had weakened significantly.

He had known that the cord was a connection between them; he had felt its impact subtly, as her feelings seemed more transparent and had seemed to become a part of his own feelings as well.  He had not realized that the cord was more than just a connection – it was apparently a flow of energy into the princess.  He had not merely healed or restored the girl when he had treated her as she lay dying on the ground by the campfire the previous night; he had actually created a way to hold her death in abeyance, for as long as he could deliver energy to her.  And by using his sorcery powers for other actions, he diverted the energy from sustaining her.

Marco felt a moment of claustrophobia, as he thought of the heavy responsibility that now lay upon him.  He had to think of his life as her life; if he were to be drained of his sorcery powers, or if he were even to use them extensively, she would suffer, perhaps fatally.  She truly needed him in a way that he would have never considered possible.  He felt a protectiveness and tenderness towards Ellersbine that he hadn’t previously known.

The group walked on in silence.   Despite the recent aborted ambush, Marco paid no attention to the savannah as he pondered his disturbing realization

Shortly before nightfall, they arrived at a tiny grove of trees, only a half dozen growing close to one another.

“We’ll spend the night here,” Marco announced abruptly.  “I’m not going to make a fire.  We’ll take turns keeping watch,” he briefly set out his plan for the night.

“I certainly won’t have to serve a watch duty,” Argen said in a bored tone.

“If you don’t, we may not be here when you wake up in the morning,” Marco warned him.  “There are only three of us, and we all have to contribute if we’re going to survive this trip.  That includes you,” he made his expectations clear.  “The princess can take the first shift, I’ll take the middle, and you can have the last shift,” Marco announced, not prepared to accept any argument.  Nor did he get any, as Argen backed down from his rebellion.

Marco walked around the perimeter of the trees alone, calming his thoughts.  He had undertaken his adventure to rescue Ellersbine, without a thought for rescuing Argen as well.  But the man was alive and part of the story.  And he was Ellersbine’s fiancé, as well as her potential protection from court politics and retribution because of her father’s involvement in the loss of Athens.

Athens seemed like a place he had been a long, long time ago, in a different age of the world.  So much had happened since then that he felt disconnected from that phase of his life.  He felt as though he had forgotten so many of the things about his life before Athens, as the strange challenges of his life among the Docleateans crowded out so much.

Memories – Argen was going to remember that Marco had displayed his sorcery abilities, and he was going to spread word of that as soon as they reached Foulata.  Marco pondered that approaching problem – once he was recognized as a sorcerer, attention would focus on him and trouble was sure to descend.

Unless,
he suddenly thought to himself, unless he could erase memories – and he could!  He knew the alchemy means of making people forget a day’s worth of memories!  He needed to find out if he had the elements and ingredients in place to allow him to create such a mixture, and administer it to Argen before the middle of the next day.  He began to riffle through his mental list of needed items as he walked a second circuit around the small woods.  There were two of the items available in the area he was in at that moment – he had seen fragments of bentonite clay in the soil as he walked, and there were red root rushes among the grasses growing nearby.  The rushes were not precisely in the apothecary list of the forgetfulness mixture, but they could be a suitable substitute.