From a Far Land Page 8
“What approaches?” Gatlor asked.
Lenai held a wickedly curved dagger. “A large band of Trellin raiders. I have never seen so many together!”
“Trellin?” Seerka said. “What are they doing this far north?”
Before Lenai could answer, a raspy hissing sound filled the air, and the raiders burst from the woods around them. As the warriors raised their weapons, the girl took one step towards the approaching creatures and vanished.
“Jason!” Reyga said. “We must get your father down. The charnoths will fight.”
Several of the charnoths were already tearing at the ground. One or two gave screeches that Jason could only compare to the sound of a hundred fingernails scraping across a blackboard. They got Jason’s father down and into the center of the warriors and animals just as Jason heard the first clash of metal. He turned to see what was happening.
Gatlor, sword in one hand and long dagger in the other, was fighting a creature that looked part human and part reptile. The creature’s scaly skin was a dark mottled green, almost black in some places. It wore dark leather armor, and carried a jagged-edged, double-bladed short sword in one clawed hand, and a thin black dagger in the other. Lizards with swords. Now there’s something you don’t see every day.
He pushed the thought aside, and watched as Gatlor countered the raider’s attack with dazzling speed. The flash of sunlight on steel turned the warrior’s parries and blocks into a blur of gleaming metal and leather. Then the creature sank to its knees, dark blood flowing from a gaping wound in its neck, courtesy of a blow almost too fast to see.
Jason turned to see how the others were faring. Calador had engaged several Trellin. He wielded a large axe in one hand, and an equally large maul in the other. The weapons swung like pendulums of destruction at the ends of the warrior’s powerful arms. Whenever one of his attackers would move too slowly, a devastating blow sent the creature flying away to crumble in a motionless heap wherever it landed, viscid blood soaking into the grass and dirt below.
As Jason watched, another creature darted in from Calador’s side. Its sword came down on the huge warrior’s forearm with a force that would have severed an ordinary man’s arm. Calador roared as his plate-like skin absorbed the blow. A back swing of the maul crushed the creature’s skull. Blood began to flow from his arm, but he didn’t appear to notice as he turned back to his other opponents.
The smell of blood and beast was thick in the air as Jason turned again. Fifty feet away, Seerka moved with inhuman speed and agility, growling and screaming like a mountain cat. As the raiders swung at him, he nimbly dodged their blows, or blocked them with his bracers, and then darted in and slashed at the creatures with his claws. The Ferrin’s acrobatic jumps, blocks, and rolls were a mesmerizing exhibition in deadly skill and grace. There were already two Trellin lying in dark crimson pools at the feline warrior’s feet, their faces and necks reduced to scaly tatters.
Tearing his eyes away, Jason saw that the charnoths were fighting as well. He watched as two of them attacked one of the raiders and dispatched it with a ferocity that caused him to turn his head in nausea.
A heavy blow knocked him to the ground. Head ringing, he looked up to see one of the creatures standing over him. Just as it began to raise its sword, a streak of yellow flew into its face. It stumbled back as it tried to dislodge the furious bundle of feathers and talons attacking it. Jason couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the same bird that had landed on his shoulder when he and Reyga were on the forest path.
He rolled over and started crawling away on his hands and knees, when the bird’s screeching stopped. A rough, booted foot in the small of his back pinned him to the ground. The pressure vanished, and he rolled to his back to see the creature standing over him once again. He saw the bird struggling on the ground a short distance away.
He tried to roll out of the way, but the creature’s feet were on either side of him, preventing his escape. He could only watch as the sword began its fatal descent. Just as the blade was about to split his skull, a greenish-white flash of light stopped the sword inches from his face. He looked over and saw Reyga standing with his staff pointed at the creature, the crystal in the end of his staff glowing like a small emerald sun.
Then a shadow passed over Jason, and, with a bone-crushing thud, the creature was gone. He got to his knees in time to see that Calador had crushed the raider’s chest with his maul, and was now bringing his axe down. Jason looked away quickly, but still heard the sickening crunch of the weapon striking home.
He looked to the other side of the battle, wondering where Lenai was. He saw one of the raiders stagger as if a weight had fallen on it, and then clutch at a jagged gash that ripped open across its neck. As the creature sank to its knees, Lenai appeared behind it, blood-covered dagger in hand. Her skin had flushed to a dark maroon, and the look on her face sent chills up his spine. She scanned the battle and vanished again.
He watched another raider stagger. This one had faster reactions than the first. Quickly, it reached up over its head, grabbed a handful of air, and slammed its invisible load into the ground. A cloud of dust flew up and Lenai appeared, visibly stunned. She rolled unsteadily to her hands and knees, shaking her head. Her back was to the Trellin, so she didn’t see it approaching her, sword in hand.
“No!” he yelled, and with a speed that surprised even him, he charged toward Lenai and her would-be executioner.
Lenai looked up at him blankly. It was clear that she hadn’t recovered her senses yet. As the raider raised its sword, Jason dove over her and hit the creature with a tackle that sent them both tumbling.
He jumped to his feet and ducked underneath the first swing of its sword, but he wasn’t quick enough to dodge as the creature plunged the dagger in its other hand into his shoulder. He backed away, clutching his shoulder. As the raider moved toward him, raising its sword, the hilt of a dagger appeared sticking out of the side of its neck.
It staggered back, clawing at its throat. Jason turned to thank Lenai, but she was still on her knees trying to clear her head. He looked past her and saw Gatlor running toward them, one slot in his bandolier conspicuously empty.
Gatlor grabbed the front of the creature’s armor. “What are you doing here?” The only answer it gave was a last gurgling hiss as it died in his grasp.
Clenching his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, Jason turned to survey the battle and saw one raider still alive. It was running for the protection of the trees. Gatlor saw it as well and shouted, “It must not escape!”
His sword clanged to the ground as he took an arrow from his quiver and nocked it in the bow that was suddenly in his other hand. He raised the bow and released the arrow. There was a hissing roar of pain as the raider fell to the ground, the arrow protruding from the back of its leg.
“Take him alive!” Gatlor barked, as Calador and Seerka went to retrieve the fallen creature.
He examined the dagger buried in Jason’s shoulder. “That was a foolish thing to do,” he said. “Oh, aye, brave enough, I suppose,” he conceded grudgingly as he turned to help Lenai to her feet, “but foolish.”
He turned back just as Jason lightly touched the dagger. “No!” he snapped, grabbing Jason’s wrist. “You must not remove the blade. We must get you to Lore's Haven at once. Loremaster Reyga!” he called as he turned away from Jason.
“I think I’ll be okay,” Jason said. “It hurts, but not as much as I thought it w—” He gasped and fell to his knees as liquid fire ran through his shoulder. It felt as if the dagger had become a red-hot brand piercing his flesh. As he struggled to catch his breath, the burning crawled from his shoulder down his arm, and then to his chest and neck. Fiery tendrils of pain spread to the rest of his body like magma flowing down a volcano. He collapsed to the ground and could do nothing but lie there, writhing in agony. It felt like his entire body was in a blazing furnace.
Spots danced in front of his eyes as the pain intensified even more. He tu
rned his head and saw Reyga making mysterious gestures with his hands, and then the air shimmered in front of him. Past the shimmering, Jason saw a small blur of yellow rising toward the sky. He thought he should know what it was, but couldn’t focus through the searing pain. He heard his father saying, “Jason. Jason, hold on.” The last thing he felt was the Dokal warrior lifting him, then the pain became too great. With one final agonized cry, he blacked out.
*****
A hooded figure stepped out from the concealment of the trees as the last of the party stepped through the portal. It watched the portal winked out of existence, then it slowly walked through the array of reptilian corpses on the ground.
“Well, and well, Gatlor. I see you and the others have not completely lost your fighting skills.” Thin lips smiled underneath the hood. “No matter. This was merely a test. How interesting that Brusha is the pup’s father.” With a gesture, a portal opened up. “Aye, ‘tis very interesting indeed.” A moment later, the portal vanished, taking the figure with it.
Lore's Haven
Reyga stood before the Circle. As soon as he and the others arrived at Lore's Haven, he had gone to the High One’s chambers. Minutes later, he followed a grim-faced Tal Vardyn back out into the corridor. Grabbing a nearby page, the High One ordered an emergency meeting of the Circle. As the Loremasters gathered, almost without exception they expressed surprise to see the Emerald Loremaster.
“You were not expected for another three days,” Chon grumbled as he spotted Reyga.
“I will explain everything as soon as we are all assembled,” Reyga said.
Once they had all settled into their seats, the High One stood. “Loremaster Reyga and his party were attacked.”
A collective gasp filled the room. Delani Morn, the Amethyst Loremaster, demanded, “Where? By whom? Who would dare attack a Loremaster?” Her auburn hair and hazel eyes seemed aglow with indignation at the mere thought that someone could attack one of their own.
“It was a band of Trellin raiders. It took place shortly after they left Gildenfell.”
“Impossible,” Chon said. “That is less than four days from here. The Trellin do not come this far north.”
“Nevertheless,” the High One replied, “Jason Bennett even now lies in our healing area with a Trellin bloodfang in his shoulder. Captain Gatlor has already sent trackers to see if they can determine where the attackers came from. Loremaster Seryn, I know you wish to hear what will be said here, but I must ask if you would personally see to the young man. While I am certain your assistants are most capable, we dare not take any chances at this time. Loremaster Reyga or I will answer any questions you have once he is out of danger.”
The Diamond Loremaster rose immediately. “Of course, High One. With your leave, I will go tend to his wounds now.”
“Thank you, Loremaster Seryn. Please see to your patient.”
Once Seryn left, the High One turned back to the Circle and said, “Loremaster Reyga will tell you of what has transpired this day.”
Now, Reyga stood before his peers, wondering how they would take the extraordinary news he would be giving them. Chon, of course, would bluster and bellow. Delani would think of nothing except defending the honor of the Circle. Seryn and Jarril would want to take time to consider the options. The High One, as always, would ponder how today’s events fit in with history and prophecy. Of the remaining three, he was not sure.
His gaze wandered around the chamber. The circular walls were made of polished white marble, with a domed ceiling arcing overhead. There were fourteen high-backed seats, each exquisitely crafted from dark blue chola wood. He had always admired the subtle touches of gold filigree accenting the head and arms of the chairs. The High One's chair was opposite the main entrance to the room. Four chairs sat to either side for the remainder of the Circle. The last five chairs faced the Circle from behind a modest stone podium in the center of the room, where he now stood. These were for guests, or anyone summoned before the Circle. Set into the wall near the ceiling and circling the room were nine intricate designs of iridescent tiles, each surrounding a large gem corresponding with one of the nine Orders.
The Loremasters were watching him expectantly. “I have many things to tell you today,” he said. “As you have already heard, we were attacked by Trellin. Why the Trellin attacked us or, even more disquieting, why they have come this far north, we do not know. We did manage to capture one, and we will find out as much as we can from it. What you do not know is that before we stepped through the portal, we counted the bodies.” He paused, and then said, “There were sixteen dead Trellin, and one alive. The raiding party consisted of seventeen Trellin.”
Kalen Dristal, the Topaz Loremaster spoke up. “How can that be? The Trellin never travel in groups larger than five.”
“I do not know,” he replied. “But that is how many there were.”
He looked around the chamber as the Loremasters whispered to each other, and then said, “The next thing you should know is that Jason Bennett came to Teleria through a chaotic rift.”
Several raised their eyebrows at this, but none seemed overly taken aback at the news.
Jarril said, “While that may be unusual, Loremaster Reyga, it is not unheard of. Although, he is a fortunate young man to have arrived unharmed.”
“True enough. However, his father also came here through a chaotic rift.”
“What?” Chon said. “You did not tell us his father came with him. Why did you not mention this before?”
“His father did not come with him,” he said. “His father arrived in Teleria thirty years ago.”
The Loremasters looked at him in confusion. “What deception is this, Reyga?” Chon demanded. “We were told this Jason Bennett was a boy of less than twenty years. How could his father have arrived here thirty years ago?”
“There is more,” he said. “From his father’s point of view, he did not step into the rift until twenty years after Jason had disappeared from their world.”
Brin Jalasar, the Ruby Loremaster said, “This is madness, Loremaster Reyga. Did his father come to Teleria before or after his son?” The Ruby Loremaster was a tall, broad shouldered man, with a hawk-like gaze.
Ignoring the question for the moment, Reyga said, “Not only did his father come to Teleria through a chaotic rift, he came through the same chaotic rift that brought Jason Bennett to us.”
At this, there were a few outbursts of “Impossible! Ridiculous!” The room dissolved into a buzz of conversation.
T’Kel Sho, the Sapphire Loremaster stood. “Loremaster Reyga,” she said in a soft, lilting voice, “you know as well as we that by its very definition, a chaotic rift does not appear twice in the same place. How can you explain this?” The Sapphire Loremaster was the other non-human Loremaster on the Circle besides Jarril. She was F’aar, an amphibious race that could function equally well on land or underwater, although they preferred their watery home to the land. As she spoke, small gill slits on either side of her neck fluttered.
She went on. “And what of Loremaster Brin’s question? How can you explain the apparent contradiction as to when this boy’s father came to Teleria?” T’Kel resumed her seat as she finished speaking.
“Obviously we have made a mistake in our definition of a chaotic rift. Either that, or there is yet a third type of rift that we have just now encountered,” he said. “As far as the discrepancies regarding Jason’s father, I believe it may be possible that the rifts not only traverse space and dimension, but also time. It would appear to be the only explanation.”
“Preposterous,” Chon scoffed as the Loremasters once more began to talk amongst themselves. “Traveling through time? I suppose next you would have us believe trees can talk.”
“I understand that what I have proposed sounds unbelievable. But what I have told you is not all. There is yet more you need to hear.”
Chon crossed his arms as the rest of the Loremasters quieted.
Reyga took a deep brea
th. What he was about to tell them would send the room into chaos. “When Jason’s father was telling him about how he came to be in Teleria, he told Jason that he had found records indicating that one of their ancestors had also disappeared some three hundred years earlier. This ancestor had apparently entered the same rift as Jason and his father, which, one would assume, would have brought him here.”
As several of the Loremasters began to speak, he held up his hands and said, “Please. Allow me to finish.”
When they settled back, Reyga said, “Jason’s father—I have known him for many years as Brusha, but Jason tells me his name is Bruce—in any event, his father told him that the name of his ancestor who had disappeared was… Bothan.”
There was a moment of stunned silence from the Loremasters, and then they were all on their feet trying to make themselves heard. Even the High One seemed startled by his last statement, staring at Reyga as if he had just transformed into some fantastic creature.
Then the High One regained his composure and stepped up to the podium. His staff came alive, crackling with dimsai and getting the attention of the Loremasters. One by one, they stopped talking and resumed their seats.
Once the room was quiet again, the High One said, “Loremaster Reyga, you did not mention this when you came to my chambers.”
“I know, High One, and I ask your forgiveness. But you left to summon the Circle before I could tell you.”
The High One did not answer at first. Finally, after several moments, he said, “So, considering that you felt it was necessary to mention this young man’s ancestor, should I assume that you believe his ancestor to be the one we know as Bodann?”
“I believe it is, at the very least, a distinct possibility.”