Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

Caris chose a small leafy plant that grew plentifully along the river’s edge, crushed it between her fingers and held it up to her nose to smell. It looked very similar to gendi and smelt the same, its leaves were broader and it was more of a lime green, whereas the plant at home was dark. She nibbled the ends; it tasted the same, though not quite as strong. She allowed herself two mouthfuls, before dropping the rest and continuing to look for plants of which she was sure. When Caris judged enough time had passed, she went to the water’s edge and drank. So far, she had suffered no ill effects from the gendi-like plant so she pulled up another, washed it and hungrily ate the whole thing. She looked longingly at another but decided she had better wait before hoeing the whole paddock.

The brush at the river’s edge was becoming quite dense so Caris gratefully moved out of the sun and under the trees. She found an animal trail running parallel to the river that allowed her to travel more quickly. She hadn’t gone far before she saw a findly bush covered in little purple berries; she rushed to it. The leaves on the bush were smaller and they were interspersed with red leaves, she would be careful.

Caris reached out her hand but before she could pick a couple of berries, she noticed a small nauseous feeling in her mid section. She hesitated; somehow, she knew the berries were no good. Putting her back to the bush, she continued her journey.

Caris travelled quickly, there was a breeze blowing in under the trees from the river and she found herself enthralled by the variety of plants and the different hues of colours that she had never seen before. The dominant colour was green, mixed throughout were pale lavenders, peach coloured leafy shrubs, purples, reds, blues, and punctuating it all was the occasional bright yellow or orange bush.

She moved quietly, following trails left by animals and instinctively avoiding treading on sticks or dry leaves. Though this jungle was alien to her, she found herself feeling completely at home. The animals did not fear her; they amazed her with their beauty and strangeness. If it were not for her worry about Crispin, she would have thoroughly enjoyed her morning.

When the sun had passed the middle of the sky Caris allowed herself to work her way back down to the water. The sound of the river had been increasing for some time, but as Caris broke through the thick brush and stepped out onto the rocks at the river’s edge, the sound became a roar and she was startled to find the fall was only an arrow shot away.

She stared in amazement at the power of the water crashing down into the pool below, spraying a beautiful mist into the air. A multihued arch of colours curved over the spray, mesmerising her. Caris was transfixed. Never had she seen such power and beauty. Even as she marvelled, her fear for Crispin nagged at her, so she quickly drank from the river and looked around for some more of the gendi-like plant. She was disappointed to find that there was none in the area, nor anything else that appeared edible.

Caris turned her attention to the problem of the cliff. She could only see the area immediately surrounding the fall of water and it looked as insurmountable as it had on her first hurried examination of it the previous day. She would head east and try to find a place to climb up
. There will have to be a place where I can get Indira down, won’t there?

Caris made her way back through the scrub to the trail she had been following and started heading north. It wasn’t long until she found a path heading east. Her hopes lifted as she saw the width of it. She had seen many paths crossing hers, where the animals obviously came down to the river to drink, but none of them had come close to this size, it was easily twice as wide as the one she was using and looked like many animals used it regularly.
If animals were to make their way down from the top and head to the river this is the way they would come,
Caris told herself hopefully.

She quickened her speed, but hadn’t gone far before she heard a whinny and Indira came into sight.

“Indira!” Caris exclaimed as her horse cantered toward her. Indira stopped in front of Caris and began nuzzling her chest with soft snorts. “Indira” Caris repeated softly as she hugged her horse’s head to herself. Caris told herself that Indira must have wandered and ended up on this trail by accident but she knew the truth was that Indira had made her way downstream to find her. Her heart warmed at the loyalty of her horse.

After petting her for a while, Caris retrieved some hard bread from her saddlebag. There wasn’t much in there as the band always ate together and there had been no need for her to carry her own food. She had only kept enough on Indira to supply her with the occasional snack while riding. She knew she would need her bow and arrows, so after turning Indira around on the narrow path she mounted and headed back the way her horse had come.

It didn’t take long to find the beginning of the track up, the incline was steep but the footing was sure. Caris dismounted and led Indira, not having the heart to leave her behind so soon after finding each other. It was a long steep climb and Caris was breathing hard by the time she reached the top.

She climbed onto Indira’s back and headed toward the river, taking careful note of where the trail down began. Bushes crowded around the entrance, concealing it, and Caris marvelled that Indira had found it at all. There were tufts of hair pulled from her horse’s coat and Caris speculated that it must have taken a lot of pushing through brambles before Indira found a path down. It was not a long ride back to retrieve her bow; it was still in the bushes where she had dropped it.

Caris stopped by the water for a short break and both of them enjoyed a long drink.
Mid afternoon,
Caris mused, looking at the sun. There was still plenty of time to make it back by sunset but Caris wanted to get back to Crispin as quickly as possible. She slung her bow and arrows over her shoulder and went to look at the top of the fall. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw how far down it was.
How did we survive that?
She hoped she was never called on to do anything so crazy again; she didn’t think she would be able to find the courage to make that jump a second time.

Gladly, Caris turned her back on the cliff and started heading back the way they had come. It was then she saw the boot print in the soft earth by the water. She hurried over to examine it. It was a King’s Horse boot!
It’s probably Crispin’s, s
he realised in dismay. But no, she could see where they had dragged the stumbling Crispin to the side of the water. She did a thorough search of the ground. At least two King’s Horse had been through; they too had stopped to look at Crispin’s tracks.

Caris widened her search. It looked like they had stopped to drink and then followed the grey people into the water. Caris’ heart leapt into her throat when she saw the soft leather print closer to the edge of the cliff. She looked closer in the area; the prints weren’t as deep as the others but she knew that tred. “Janen was here,” she whispered to herself.

Indira nudged her shoulder bringing her out of her reverie. Caris laughed and, climbing onto her back, began the ride back to Crispin.

The trip went quickly, now that Caris was riding again. She was relieved to have Indira and she realised it wasn’t just because she needed her as a horse. Indira had become a companion, one of only two that remained from her home. She pushed the thought away that Janen was no longer with her. She would find him and the others.

Caris walked toward where she had left Crispin with a couple of the pink furry animals slung over her shoulder. She had killed two with her arrows in the hope that Crispin would be awake to eat with her. As she got closer, she increased her speed, anxious to check he was ok.

She found him in the same position she had left him. “Oh, Crispin,” she hadn’t realised how much she had been counting on him being awake by the time she returned. His breathing was steady and his skin warm. Caris took the dry rag from his hand and went to the river to soak it.

As she sat beside him, trickling water into his mouth, she tried not to become overwhelmed by her fear that he wouldn’t survive. She took in the strong honest features of his face. “You’re supposed to be protecting me Crispin. You’re the one who gives the directions and makes sure everyone is safe and provided for. I don’t know what to do; I don’t know how to help you.” She looked at him, as if waiting for a reply, then went back to the water to soak the rag again.

The fire was much easier to start now that she had her flint. Though Caris was proud of her achievement with the rocks the night before, she wasn’t eager to try it again soon. She dug out her hunting pot from the bottom of her bag. She’d had no use for it while she was with The King’s Horse but was glad to have it now. She roasted one of the animals and made a stew with some greens with the other one. Caris ate the first animal fast enough to make even Bek proud.

When the stew was cooked, she put some in a bowl and set it aside to cool and then started picking greens out of the pot and eating those. When it had cooled enough, she set about the frustrating task of trying to get some into Crispin. She had cut the meat thin and softened it by long stewing but was still unable to get Crispin to swallow it. Eventually, fearing he would choke, she fished it out of his mouth with her fingers and settled for getting as much of the liquid into him as she could. She hoped there would be some goodness from the meat and the greens in that.

Caris woke in the morning, warm in her bedroll snuggled against Crispin. His body was still unresponsive and she hardened herself against disappointment before beginning to gently shake him, “Crispin, Crispin wake up.” She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t stir. Refusing to cry she headed down to the water to refresh herself.

Caris had left the stew resting in the coals of the fire overnight and was now pleased to have something warm with which to break her fast. She spooned half the liquid into Crispin’s mouth and finished the meat and greens herself, saving the rest of the broth for Crispin’s midday meal.

It didn’t take long for her to have everything packed, though figuring out how to tie Crispin to Indira’s back in a comfortable and secure way was a lot more difficult. Indira shifted around, not liking the way Caris kept moving him around on her back.

Once Caris had Crispin in a position she was confident he couldn’t fall from, Indira accepted the strange weight and settled.

Caris had just begun to head north back to the cliff when she noticed how quiet the jungle had become. She stopped Indira and stood still listening. She couldn’t hear anything. Behind her, Indira was skittish, pulling on the lead rein and trying to back up in the other direction.

Caris didn’t know what to do. There was danger; all the animals had left or gone into hiding, Indira didn’t want to go forward, but that was the direction they must go. She was unfamiliar with this jungle and the dangers that might be here. Until now the animals she had seen, had all been gentle. She took her bow and an arrow to hand while searching the woods around her.

Something slunk through the trees ahead, it moved quietly, slowly weaving around bushes and trees. It came out from behind a tree and stopped, its yellow eyes locking with hers. It came up to Caris’ waist standing on all fours. Large hard looking overlapping scales covered its body and its feet ended in long claws.

Its lips pulled up as it snarled at her, revealing long sharp teeth. There was movement to its left. Caris looked and was dismayed to discover another one, stepping out from behind a tree. Around her, growling and snarling filled the air.

The animal in front of her started running toward her.
It’s so fast!
Caris thought in alarm as she raised her bow and arrow.

Two horse lengths from her, it leapt.

Janen stared from the cliff top, willing Caris to be alive. After what felt like an eternity, a log emerged down river of the tumult. Caris’ head briefly emerged from the water before disappearing again. He watched in agony as she struggled with the log, trying to keep above water.

When she disappeared around a bend in the river Janen hurriedly made his way to Prince. He had seen a track farther back along their trail he thought might lead down to the bottom of the cliff. He was mounted and headed that way when Syngar called him.

“Janen!”

He looked back to see Syngar standing next to Kalen who was on her knees beside the water examining some prints.

“We’ve got to go, they’ve gone down river!” yelled Janen urgently.

“The grey ones have the pendant Janen, we have to follow them,” said Syngar.

“No! Caris needs us.”

“Janen, Caris has proven she can take care of herself. We have told you the importance of the pendant. We have to retrieve it,” Kalen pleaded with him.

“You follow the grey ones and I will help Caris. Crispin might be down river too,” he said, hoping to convince them.

“I believe he is,” Kalen said softly as she looked at the marks on the ground. “Nevertheless, we need you Janen. How can the two of us follow and defeat the grey ones on our own. Even with three, we are grossly outnumbered. We have to get the pendant.”

Kalen and Syngar mounted. “We are not far behind them now!” Syngar yelled as they cantered their horses through the stream.

Following them was the hardest thing Janen had ever done. They had explained to him the importance of the pendant, and how many lives depended on it; but turning his back on Caris when she needed him was agonising.
She might die down there and I will never see her again.
He rode blindly behind Kalen and Syngar as memories of her filled his thoughts. The warmth of her laugh and the beauty of her eyes and smile had long been his greatest joy and torment. Riding away from her now felt like he was ripping his heart in two.

He galloped Prince after Kalen and Syngar in pursuit of the lost ones, his mind in turmoil.
There cannot be many of them left. We can catch them, retrieve the pendant and then go back to find Caris and Crispin. She survived the fall; I know she can survive the river too. If anyone can, it’s Caris.
He tried not to remember the way she had been struggling to keep her head above water.

Once she’s safe on land she can look after herself, she can hunt and provide for herself well enough.

But she didn’t take her bow and arrows!

She will manage. And we will return to her soon. I wish she had Indira and her pack with her.
Janen’s thoughts swum in circles. The urge to kick Prince to greater speed was almost overwhelming but he managed to hold him back to a speed with which the other horses could keep pace.

There was a bend in the track ahead; through the thick underbrush, Janen could just detect movement. Without stopping to scout the situation or plan an attack with Kalen and Syngar, he kicked Prince forward and charged around the corner, sword held high, eager to take revenge on the lost ones who might have been the cause of Caris’ death. Kalen and Syngar could only follow him.

Derks leapt at them. Too late, Janen realised his mistake. Even as he fought, he was able to feel the full weight of remorse. He had ignored all the training Tilda had given him, he had arrogantly refused to let Kalen order their attack and he might be the cause of the death of his friends. There were about ten derks. That was four too many for even experienced fighters to take on, but Syngar only had his knives and Janen had led him into close quarters with the derks. Their long arms could rip Syngar from his seat, before a knife even made contact.

As Janen slashed at his second assailant, he realised the beasts had been waiting for them. He had never heard of such discipline in derks before. That derks could control their natural urges and follow orders to lie in ambush, challenged everything he knew about them. The thought was more terrifying than his current situation.

Prince seemed to be relishing the opportunity to fight. He squealed and brought his hooves crashing down on top of a derk, knocking him to the ground and wounding him. Janen fought to keep his seat, while Prince repeatedly reared back, stomping on the derks head until he was dead.

Janen spun his horse around looking for another derk; to his surprise, they were all dead. Kalen was sitting atop her horse looking at Janen, her breathing was normal and Janen noticed she hadn’t even raised a sweat. Syngar had managed to move a small distance from the fray; he dismounted and began to retrieve the four knives that were protruding from derk eyes.

“We were lucky there were not more of them,” Kalen said pointedly, looking at Janen.

“I am very sorry, it will not happen again,” Janen said, resisting the urge to grovel. He had never felt so ashamed in his life.

Kalen merely nodded. She waited for Syngar to clean his knives and mount, and then led them down the wide trail.

The horses were tired after their small battle and needed to walk for a while. After they had recovered somewhat, Kalen kicked her horse into a canter. Janen rode, lost in his own wretched thoughts.

At midday, they reached a small stream and stopped to water the horses.

“We should have caught them well before now,” said Syngar.

“Yes, we should have,” replied Kalen, looking at Janen. Slowly he realised that both Syngar and Kalen were staring at him. He looked back, trying to recall if someone had asked him a question. He had spent the morning in a sea of negativity. The mood was foreign to him, and he didn’t understand why he felt so despondent.
I am just so worried about Caris,
he reasoned with himself.

“Are we still on their trail Janen?” Syngar finally asked.

Janen felt all the blood draining from his face. He gaped at Syngar in shock. He had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t checked the trail at all since the derk attack.

“Janen, what is wrong with you?” Kalen asked in concern.

“I’m so worried about Caris,” he mumbled.

Kalen shook her head.

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you Janen, but I know Tilda. She is a perfectionist, and she would not have allowed you to become a scout if you didn’t have better self discipline than that. There is more to it,” she said.

Janen shook his head in reply. He didn’t know what was wrong with him and he didn’t know what to say. He could offer no explanation for his distraction. Finally, he admitted, “I am not usually like this; in truth I do not know what is wrong with me. My head feels groggy, I can’t keep one train of thought; all I do is worry and think about my failures.”

“Tell me about the last couple of days,” said Kalen.

Syngar snorted, “Kalen, do you really think we have time for a healing session?”

“Do you really think we have time to not?” she replied pointedly.

After a pause, he conceded, “Well, as neither you nor I are trackers.”

She nodded, and then turned her attention back to Janen, “What has impacted you the most over the last couple of days?”

“You’ve been there, you know everything that has happened,” he mumbled.

“Nevertheless, I want to hear your perspective.”

Janen began to pour out his woes. He had not talked so freely to anyone since the death of his mother. Often he started to speak of the loss of his family and older hurts, but Kalen repeatedly brought him back to the last couple of days. Syngar made them a hot lunch, and still Janen talked.

Finally, when Syngar had finished brushing down all three weary horses, watered them and allowed them some time to graze on the nearby green grass, Syngar approached Kalen saying, “This is getting us nowhere.”

“He cannot track as he is, he can barely keep a line of thought. Listen, even his speech is slurred. I do not think this is an emotional abstraction, I think it’s something physical. I just can’t put my finger on what.”

Janen began speaking again, heedless of whether anyone was listening to him. “We almost died, Bek, Tilda, and I. I suppose Bek still might. They took Bek; we had let the horses go. We chased after them, there were so many of them and they were killing Bek. I don’t remember much of what followed. Tilda said I went into a battle-frenzy. I don’t really know what that means. It seems I killed a lot of people though.”

“Stop! You what?” Kalen asked.

“I killed a lot of people.”

“No before that.”

Janen stared at her blankly, unable to remember what he had said before that.

“You went into a battle-frenzy?”

“That’s what Tilda said, why? What does it mean?”

“It means Tilda is an absolute eppet for not telling me! That’s what’s wrong with you. This fatigue of the mind and emotional slump is normal after a battle-frenzy.”

“But you weren’t in a frenzy when we joined the battle?” said Syngar.

“No it had passed,” replied Janen.

“Battle-frenzy’s do not work that way, maybe you misunderstood what Tilda was saying,” said Syngar.

“It is possible; nothing she said was making much sense to me at the time.”

“Tell us all about it,” instructed Kalen.

So Janen told them what he could remember. He could not recall anything of the battle, but he told them of his intense weariness after and how Tilda had scolded him into finding the energy to keep going.

“Remarkable, you show great strength of character Janen. I have never heard of anyone achieving that before,” pondered Kalen.

“Achieving what?” asked Janen.

“You should have collapsed where you were, and been insensible for the next two days, admittedly it sounds as if your frenzy was a relatively short one, but still...” her words petered out as she considered what had happened.

“The question is what do we do with him now?” asked Syngar.

“If he slept for two days, this mental slump could last for another two after that, but he didn’t and so I don’t know how long it will last for, it could be shorter or longer. I wish I had my pack, but crankywort should not be too hard to find,” she finished, looking at the bush around her.

“Janen, you go to sleep. Syngar, with me.”

Janen lay down where he was and felt a momentary lightening of his mood as he finally allowed himself to succumb to his weariness.

They tried to rouse him at dusk, but only succeeded in propping him up against Syngar as Kalen spooned a warm meaty stew into his mouth. When they were finished with him, they rolled him into his blankets and he fell back into a deep sleep.

When morning came, they were not so gentle. They woke him early and forced him to drink a scalding mug of tea, after which he found himself able to get up and wash in the small stream.

“Mount up, Janen.” Syngar handed him some dried meat and hoisted him into his saddle. “Look sharp, it’s time to rejoin the living!”

As Kalen turned their horses to go back the way they had come she asked Janen, “How are you feeling?”

With surprise and relief, he realised the melancholy fog that had clouded his thoughts for the previous day was lifting. He looked around with renewed clarity. “I think I’m okay,” he told her.

“Bout time,” was Syngar’s chirpy rejoinder.

Kalen shook her head affectionately at Syngar, and Janen marvelled that even in the direst situations, he refused to stay serious for too long.

They rode their horses at a walk, not wanting to miss the point where the lost ones departed from the trail. Janen concentrated all his energies on studying the bush around him but failed to find any sign of grey ones. At midday they gave him more tea, chasing away the fog he hadn’t realised had begun to seep back in. After a short break, they pressed on.

The afternoon progressed and Syngar’s repeated questioning of whether Janen was okay and really focusing began to grate on his nerves. He swallowed his irritation, however, painfully aware of how he had let them down the previous day.

At dusk, they reached the location of their clash with the derks. The area stank, and insects swarmed all over the bloodied corpses. Janen dismounted and circled the small clearing until he found the point where the lost ones had cut into the bush.
Someone with only one eye could have seen signs of their passing here. I don’t know how I missed it.

He waved Kalen and Syngar over and following Janen in single file, they weaved through the bushes. The mood was sombre. They had wasted two days and they would not be able to move quickly through the dense undergrowth in pursuit.

When they had put some distance between them and the putrid smelling derks, Kalen called a stop in a small clearing. Janen dismounted in dismay. He knew he could not continue to track in the dim light, but he also knew he would not be making it back to Caris anytime soon.

Tired, but with his body craving fresh meat again, Janen headed into the trees with his bow. Though not willing to track in the dim light for fear of losing the lost one’s trail again, there was enough light for Janen to search out an animal. They had scared the animals away in their immediate vicinity, but he didn’t have to go too far before finding one that wasn’t wary enough.