Tranquil Fury (39 page)

Hearing Alron greet his men, stirred Aaro, Bor, and Lauren from their tossing and turning, and joined him, wanting to hear the report first hand. The increased patrols they already knew about, guard posts every two hours, they also expected. But, just two days ride south a large fort, constructed in an open section of the forest, blocked their passage. Fresh water was the reason for the location, a river flowing beside it with only one bridge, which led into the fort. Before Alron could ask, Panry advised the river was too deep and fast for them to ford. There may be spots, but they would need time to check both directions.

Alron shook his head, could not believe the misfortune. Sixteen guard post, possibly the same number of patrols. Even if they were able to get by those in the next two days, an impassable river guarded by a fort blocked their route. And if they got to the river unseen, it could take a week or more to find a place to cross, and they could be set back by over a month. Even though they did not have a timetable, every extra day they spent trapped in the forest increased their odds of making a mistake, or worse.

Lauren looked to Alron, wanted to hear his plan, but he could not meet her gaze, “Panry, Careel, Babartin, I does thank thou, thine news does naught be good, but at least we now does know what does wait for us. Mine men does need rest Earth Daughter, this night we does spend here, tomorrow we shalt make plans.”

Lauren remembered asking Alron what the trip south would be like, remembered demanding the truth from him, and remembered that one word: bad. Lauren muttered to herself.
Stepping in a pile of dog crap, that’s bad. Maybe bad means something else in elf, like catastrophic or disastrous.
She wandered over to John and Logan, told them the news, that they would be spending the night here, moving out the next day.

Logan woke to the bright moon overhead, his feather tattoos urging him from his troubled sleep. The guards at the front never saw, or heard him wander out the back of the camp. He remembered seeing Zack’s empty bedroll, but never gave it any thought. He wandered without purpose for about an hour in the chilly night, as if he was looking for something, and when he came across a large deadfall, sat down to collect his thoughts. Reaching to a nearby tree, he felt the dry, brittle leaves, ran his hands along the ground, felt the dry leaves and sticks.
Two days ride through an enemy infested forest, blocked by fort and river
. Logan might not have the training that Alron had, but even he knew they had to find whatever it was, that they were looking for. He reached up to the dry leaves in the tree and uttered an apology, “Sorry Mother, to save thine children, we does need to sacrifice thine forest.” Smoke started to wisp from the leaf that he caressed, as he pulled his hand back, a flame appeared, began to grow, spreading to other leaves. It slowly worked its way to the crown of the tree, as a gentle breeze blew the burning leaves onto other trees, and the fire spread. Burning embers, large and small, floated down to the ground where the dry kindling embraced them, welcomed them, warmed to them. The south winds intensified, help spread the fire, fueled, and directed it. One breeze seemed to circulate through the burning trees, pulsed through the growing inferno like a heartbeat. Smoke rose, hit a thermocline, its skyward passage blocked, it floated south and east. Logan watched the fire engulf the forest for about an hour, mesmerized by the show the dancing flames put on, watched smaller trees get consumed than topple over, setting more on fire. Wondered what magic was in the Ironwood trees, the huge green giants, standing tall, with the bright orange fire dancing around them. It painted an image in his mind that was hard to forget. With the fire developed sufficiently, its southward journey now set, Logan finally stood, and headed back to the camp.

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Alron was lying awake that morning, his eyes still closed, when he first smelled the smoke, the burning wood. He looked to the west and saw the sky obscured by thick gray smoke tumbling over the forest. He ran to the back of the camp, quickly climbed a tree. It was close, he whistled, Earth Guards jumped into action, getting everybody on their feet. “Our flight does be made worse, as forest does be ablaze. Shelter it does naught provide. We does ride now.”

Everybody quickly saddled their mounts and headed back to the road, as the smoke grew thicker. When on the road, Alron kept the rear and front guards close, so if they stumbled on any patrols or guard posts, he would have all of his men to protect the Earth Daughter—and her friends. He was expecting the travel to be slow, with everybody coughing, but the smoke seemed to be thicker to the sides and above. Alron was trying to find the right pace, fast enough that they would not be surprised, but not too fast that they would ride into a threat unprepared. So when they came to where the first guard post would be, he called for them to slow down, but Logan rode past him, and the guard post. They could hear the fear in the tethered black-clad horses, as they sensed the approaching fire, but the guards were silent. Unseen by the group, the fresh wounds on the guards, and the bear tracks in the ground.

Alron realized at that moment, the forest fire was a blessing, realized that Sister was providing the much needed protection from the ever-vigilant presence of the black-clad guards. He whistled, and the pace picked up, as all following Logan. A few times Logan pulled his mount into the forest to wait, while coughing patrols of black-clad soldier rode by, obscured in a veil of smoke. Alron figured the suns would be setting soon, and rode to Logan, telling him they needed to make camp for the night.

But Logan shook his head, “Naught till river we does arrive at.”

Alron fell back to the rest of the group, advised they would ride all night with only the smoke obscured moon to guide them. He did not like it, but they were making the best time of the journey so far. The night was long, the riders weary, and while the smoke did not hinder them like the black-clad, some still found its way into their lungs and eyes. Tired, fatigued, it seemed like the night would not end. Hidden by the thick forest and smoke, the first sun began to scale the horizon, push back the night. Alron was riding beside Logan, when Panry rode up to them, advised they were getting close to the river and fort, and that they should find a place to hide for the day.

Logan shook his head, “Got to get to the other side,” and dug his heels into his mount. They continued their ride in the murky world until they came to the clearing, where Logan turned his mount east to follow the forest edge until it came to the river, which was twenty feet wide. Its current was fast, and a rocky bottom disturbed the river surface, made it rough. Logan dismounted, rubbed the blue feather tattoo as he approached the cold fast flowing water.

The smoke was thicker, and began to cloak the small group. Alron could hear the fire getting closer, and when he looked to the west, the flames burning brighter, glowed in the haze.

Logan caressed the surface of the river, dipped his hands into the cold water, and felt his fingers go numb. He reached deeper into the frigid water until he completely immersed both feather tattoos, felt the ice begin to form. At first, the flow was too great, and it swept the forming ice down the current, but it soon gained a purchase. As the rest watched, large patches of thick ice anchored to the shores, reached out to the middle, and then married together. Logan continued to concentrate on the ice, now that it had connected, he made it thicker, and wider. And when the ten foot wide bridge, twelve inches thick was complete, Logan pulled his arms out, they were blue with cold, blood now having difficulties circulating body warmth to his arms and hands. He turned and stumbled, trying to get up the bank, his teeth chattering, but was unable to gain a handhold to pull himself up. Alron and Panry jumped off their stags, grabbed his arms, and dragged him up to the top of the river bank. Alron jumped down, tested the thickness of the ice, and felt it heave up and down as the turbid current trapped underneath complained of its unnatural state. Alron called out to everybody, to dismount, to cross one at a time. He knew the stags, ponies, elves, and dwarves should be able to cross the ice bridge, as well as most of Laurens friends, it was the large black-clad horses, which worried him the most. He called to the Earth Guard, the lightest, had them cross first with the borrowed black-clad horses, when the ice bridge would be the thickest. Panry and the Dawnfalcons made two trips each to get all seven horses to the other side. Alron would need the horses to flee south once they were across, and when the horses were secure, he called to Lauren and her friends, but not to Eric.

One by one, Alron in the middle of the ice bridge, rushed them over the wet surface, as small waves would break over the top of the ice bridge, make it slippery. He called to the Earth Guards, who started to throw handfuls of gravel, and dirt onto the ice bridge, tried to win them back some purchase as rushing water underneath continued to thin the bridge. All struggled to cross, hoping enough ice remained, but as fast as new traction landed on the bridge, the river retaliated, and washed most of it away.

Alron could feel the bridge heaving more, knew the ice was getting thinner, and when Ryan was across, the Ironhouse brothers lined up, but none wanted to be first. Fiery dragons, dark caves, frost beasts, this and more would not put the scare into a dwarf. Fast flowing cold water, a dwarves nightmare realized. Panry ran across, gently nudged, or pushed each one onto the thinning ice bridge, where Alron helped them complete their journey to the other side. Some placed their trust in the elves, so scared, they would not open their eyes, but none would ever mention what the dwarves felt, would only speak of the bravery they showed.

Alron felt the heave and sag of the ice bridge increase, all were across but Panry and Eric. Erust tossed Panry a rope, and he tied it around Eric, ran slipping, and sliding across the heaving ice bridge. Once on the other side, Panry handed the rope to the Ironhouse brothers, and as Eric stepped onto the bridge, Alron stepped off of it. Eric was not even a quarter of the way across when Alron heard the deafening crack, saw the ice tip up, saw Eric go down. Ironhouse pulled the rope, but each time Eric tried to grab the last remains of the ice bridge, it broke free. The current, now free, started to push him downstream. Bor whistled, and his brothers pulled harder, but Eric was so big, had so much drag, and their boots still wet, the river threatened to win the battle. Panry grabbed the end of the rope and tied it to a saddle on one of the horses, smacking its rump. It pulled Eric out of the main channel, the current pushed him to the edge of the river, and he remembered how much he hated cold water. The Ironhouse brothers ran to his aid, and pulled him from the river and up the bank. Alron quickly got everybody mounted, needed a place to hide, as it was starting to get brighter, making them easily seen.

As he turned, he saw the reason for the increased light. The forest fire had jumped the river, found the wooden fort, began to consume it. Alron forced them into the forest, needed a safe place to hide, Eric and Logan needing warmth. As he drove them deeper into the thick forest, Lauren tried to sing, to help, but kept seeing Logan shivering, and was not able to concentrate. Alron finally realized he was not going to find a suitable spot, called for them to stop, and told the dwarves to take axe to tree, to make them a camp. Mirtza immediately materialized his wagon, extracted blankets, and wrapped them around Logan and Eric who were both shaking uncontrollably. There was enough daylight that would mask the light of their fire, but not the smoke, and Alron needed a fire for Logan and Eric else they might perish. Afraid that the black-clad might see the smoke, think it was a new fire, and take actions against it, Alron sent Earth Guards to the front lines, to extinguish any that had intentions of investigating the new smoke.

Ryan, John, Zack, and Lauren took turns helping to rub Eric and Logan, to get their circulation back. Mirtza was having trouble getting the fire going, the kindling too wet, would not accept the spark. Zack threw his lighter, Mirtza rotated the wheel as he depressed the little button, still surprised by the fire he saw in his hand. The cold kindling did not have the will to resist the hot flame, began to burn, and emitted the much-needed warmth. Mirtza brought out his magic hot plate that did not need fire, put on a pot of bean juice, which seemed to take a long time to boil, but soon he had two cups of the hot liquid for Eric and Logan, which they gratefully accepted. Slowly their teeth quit chattering, the color came back to their faces, exhaustion overtook them, and they fell asleep.

It was late in the day, and Alron had the Earth Guards replace by the Ironhouse brothers, who had managed to get something to eat, had taken a short but restful nap, they would be more alert.

When all was quiet, Lauren wondered over to Alron and sat beside him, “Are the rest of the days going to be like this?”

 “Earth Daughter, I does naught know what does lie ahead. I does barely understand what does lie behind us. Rest here we shalt this night, tomorrow we does make fresh plans.”

Alron waited until Logan and Eric awoke to ensure that they were feeling better. Then he took Panry and the Dawnfalcons out to relieve the Ironhouse brothers, as he wanted elfin ears to warn him if anything should approach in the dark. Aaro and Bor would not leave their front position, as they were delighted to see the black-clad army fighting the losing battle with the fire that destroyed their fort, occasionally catching sight of a burning log falling on one, or a soldier catching on fire, jumping into the river, only to be swept downstream to a watery death.

It was dark outside, the fire burning bright, when Aaro first pointed to the white shape that materialized from the black night, the white bear, which hunted black. They watched in amazement, as it would sneak up on unsuspecting soldiers, pounce on them, and rip them into shreds. It prowled in and out of the shadows, seemed to disappear or materialize at will. Several times, they thought the black-clad had it trapped, only to see it appear behind the soldiers from a different shadow. Throughout the night, more black-clad soldiers arrived from the south, to help with the fire. The frost bear greeted them all with an undying enthusiasm, their response, a surprised indifference, as their warm life blood slowly flowed into the fast cold river.