Council of War (18 page)

"No," Prince Rigal admitted after a moment, "except I might have been tempted to stay awake and by his side during the night. That would have saved me the anxiety of the nightmare."

Karl smiled and nodded. "You also held back information from me," he said. "You would be wise to adhere to your own perfectly good advice."

"True," smiled Prince Rigal. "My healing skill is so slight that I am ashamed to even mention it. When people hear that I have healing magic, they get their hopes high only to be disappointed when I tell them that I cannot heal what ails them."

Clint and Shawn entered the clearing and made straight for Karl. The elven prince and the Knight of Alcea rose to their feet and waited to hear the report.

"It is the strangest thing," Clint began. "Every portion of the trip line was broken, but not where you would expect it to be broken. The line was not separated in the areas between trees, but rather in the areas where it had contact with the trees."

"As if the trees had moved?" asked Karl.

"Exactly," nodded Clint.

"It is the same with the tether line we strung up for the horses," added Shawn. "It was broken at both ends."

"Living trees," Prince Rigal murmured in awe as he stared up at one of the giants towering overhead. "One would think that such a thing would make an elf happy, but not this elf. I say we gather our horses and put this place behind us."

"Agreed," said Karl, "but no one goes out alone in search of our mounts. We will pair off in teams, and one team must stay in the clearing to protect the sailors."

"Gerant and I will stay in camp," offered Prince Rigal. "I want to see if I can do anything more for Lyron."

"Alright," Karl said as he nodded towards Clint and Shawn, "you two are one team. I will match up with Max. We will take the western side of the camp."

Clint and Shawn nodded and headed out of the camp to the east. Karl crossed the clearing to where Max and Gerant were just finishing up the litter.

"We are teaming up to gather the horses," Karl announced. "Gerant, you are teamed with Prince Rigal. For now you two have camp security. Max, we have the western sector. Whenever you are ready."

"I can finish this up," offered the elf.

"Then I am ready," stated Max as he rose.

Gerant watched the two humans leave and then returned to lashing the litter. The warriors had not been gone more than half an hour when one of the sailors spotted a horse south of the clearing. Gerant looked up and saw the horse standing still, its tether line still hanging.

"Go and grab his tether line," Gerant called to the sailors. If you have a problem, let me know, and I will be there."

Several of the sailors headed cautiously towards the animal. Prince Rigal finished casting the spell on Lyron and rose to his feet and stretched. He gazed out of the clearing at the sailors creeping up on the horse and smiled. As his eyes gazed at the horse, the smile slowly faded from his face as he saw long dark streaks down the side of the horse. He started running after the sailors.

"Come with me, Gerant," he called over his shoulder. "That animal is wounded."

Gerant immediately rose and raced after his prince.

"Leave the horse and get back to camp," the elven prince called to the sailors.

Alando was already close to the horse, and he reached out and grabbed the tether line. The horse reacted mercilessly. It reared up and lashed out with its front hooves. Being a sailor, Alando refused to let go of the line once he had it in hand. The sailor hung from the line, his feet dangling in the air, as the horse's hooves lashed out on each side him. The horse suddenly dropped his front legs to the ground. Alando was caught off balance and toppled to the ground. As he tried to scramble to his feet, the horse bent his head and sunk its teeth into Alando's neck. An arrow streamed past the sailors and struck the flank of the horse. The horse screamed and twisted towards the shaft of the arrow. Another sailed through the air and sunk into the horse's head. The horse fell to the ground.

Prince Rigal raced by the sailors and knelt next to Alando, but he was too late to be of any aid. The sailor was long past the need for healing magic. Gerant arrived a moment later, and he dropped his bow and checked the horse for any signs of life.

"Is it dead?" asked the elven prince.

"It is," answered Gerant.

"So is Alando," Prince Rigal said as he got to his feet. "Let's get the sailors back into the clearing immediately. I don't want any more deaths."

"What about Alando?" asked Gerant.

"There is nothing we can do for him now," answered the prince. "We will bury him when the rest of the group returns. I don't want anyone outside the clearing until everyone has returned."

The prince headed for the sailors, waving them back to the clearing. Gerant picked up his bow and followed. The sailors remained quiet as the elves herded them back to the clearing. Alando was one of the three identical brothers, and the remaining two brothers immediately knelt in prayer on returning to the clearing. Prince Rigal felt a wave of sympathy wash over him as he watched the humans. It was one thing for a warrior to die in battle. That was to be expected, but these types of deaths were always harder to understand. He admired the strength of the sailors as he realized how far out of their element they were. Not one of them had complained the entire journey, even though they were like fish out of the water. Their only weapons were short knives, yet they were being put up against armies of innumerable foes.

"I should have gone myself," Gerant said softly, his words intruding on the prince's thoughts. "I was too involved with Lyron's litter to be bothered with corralling a mere horse."

"Perhaps you should have," nodded the prince, "but it could just as easily have been your body out there. None of us was prepared for such ghoulish things as this. That beast was no more a horse than you or I. Do not berate yourself over this senseless death. Rather than look back at our mistakes, we must focus on the future. If nothing else, we need to get these sailors to safety. They should not be forced to roam around Zara as we are. On the sea, we were in their care. Here it is reversed."

"I will watch over them," vowed Gerant. "I promise you that."

Chanz and Warren could not stand being idle, nor did they want to dwell on Alando's death. They moved to the litter and began working on the lashings, more to occupy their minds than anything else. Prince Rigal returned to Lyron's side, and Gerant held his bow protectively and constantly circled the clearing. Cirris and Ecaro were still praying an hour later when Karl and Max returned to the clearing. They did not have a single horse with them. Gerant rushed to meet them as they entered the clearing. He told them what had happened, but when he went to point at the bodies to the south, they were gone. Karl looked at the men in the camp and sighed. He knew that their spirit had been broken, and he had to repair it before things went any further. He marched to the center of the clearing and called for everyone's attention.

"I am sorry about Alando," Karl began as he looked at the two brothers. "I will do everything that I can to get us through this forest, but I am going to need the help of all of you. Max and I found several of our horses. Some were dead when we found them. All of them were dead when we left them. The horses all had severe wounds on their bodies as if vicious wolves had attacked them. I don't know if it truly was wolves, but that hardly matters any more. The point is, I fully expect Clint and Shawn to return without any horses. That means that we are on our own. We need to have the litter modified, as we will have to carry it ourselves. We also need to go through all of our packs and decide what to take with us and what to leave here. We cannot carry it all."

"Are we turning back across the Aranak River?" asked Chanz.

"No," Karl replied. "There are twenty thousand soldiers back there looking for us. I won't lie to you men. Things are looking pretty grim in this Forest of Death, and we may not make it out the other side without more deaths, but turning around is almost certain death for all of us. What we need to do from now on is concentrate on the task at hand. Don't allow yourselves to think about the things in this forest. Keep yourselves busy with the chores needed to survive."

Clint and Shawn entered the clearing. They also returned without a single horse.

"When we camp at night," Karl continued, "we will post sentries. Those of you without weapons will bear the brunt of carrying our supplies, but you will not be called to stand as sentries so you will get a full night's sleep every night. Any questions?"

"How long will we be in this forest?" asked Warren.

"I can't say exactly," replied Karl, "but with the loss of our horses, it will be at least a week, perhaps two. We have one hundred and twenty leagues to cover, but I cannot say that it will all be like this. The truth is, I don't know what it will be like, but whatever it is like, we will get through it."

"One thing I would like to add," Max said. "Death in this forest doesn't really mean dead. If something is attacking you and it dies, don't count on it not getting up again."

"Everything must be decapitated," remarked Clint. "So far that has worked on the horses just like it did on revenants. If in doubt, cut off its head."

"What are the priorities in supplies?" asked Warren.

"Water is first," answered Karl. "Without it we die, and I haven't seen a stream since entering this forest. Food is second, and everything else is third."

"I wouldn't eat anything from this forest," remarked Gerant. "If we run out of food, I will do without."

"It may come to that," frowned Karl. "If there are no more questions, let's get organized. The longer we stand here, the longer we will be in the Forest of Death."

The group moved into action with a determination to leave the clearing as soon as possible. Within an hour the packs were refilled, and Lyron was carried onto the litter. Cirris and Ecaro took the first shift carrying the litter while Chanz and Warren bore the brunt of the supplies. Karl and Clint took the lead followed by Prince Rigal and Gerant. Max and Shawn took up the rear guard.

The pace of moving by foot was not that much different from the pace that they had managed the day before with the horses. The group did not have to weave quite as much as they were able to walk under many of the low branches that they would have had to ride around. Still, the added weight of the supplies brought an early weariness to the group, and Karl called a halt to the day's journey when he found a suitable clearing about an hour short of dusk.

"We're stopping early?" questioned Clint.

"We are," nodded Karl as he waved the men into the clearing. "The men have been through a lot today, and I don't want to chance darkness coming on us without having found a suitable campsite. Besides, the poor sailors must be exhausted. They may get used to the weight as we go through the forest in coming days, but the first day is always the one you feel the most."

"So you aren't stopping because of any feelings?" probed the Ranger.

"What do you mean?" Karl asked suspiciously.

"I have had the feeling of being watched for the last hour," frowned Clint. "I just assumed that you felt it, too."

"I felt that way all day," replied Karl. "I don't know what it is with this forest, but I always feel as if someone is watching me. It is a feeling that I never had during my years of hunting, but I figured that events just had me spooked. I pushed the feeling away."

"Maybe I am just on edge," shrugged Clint, "but I tend to pay attention to such feelings. They have saved my life more than once."

"That is good enough for me," replied the Knight of Alcea. "Let's surround the sailors while we eat. Each of us will face a different direction rather than facing one another. And no one leaves the camp alone for any reason."

"Agreed," said the Ranger. "Have you thought about sending the fairies out to survey the surrounding area? Maybe they can get a look at whatever it is that I have been feeling for the last hour."

"I have thought about it," answered the Knight of Alcea. "We need the fairies to stay in communication with Garth. I am hesitant to send them out into this forest until we have a better idea of what lurks within it. We cannot afford to lose them."

"They are pretty capable creatures," stated Clint.

"I am not saying that they aren't," retorted Karl. "If we need to send them out, I will, but I am not going to use them carelessly. Look Clint, we have only just begun this journey through the Forest of Death. I don't want to believe a lot of things we have already seen, but I get the feeling that the worst is yet to come. At this point in the journey, I do not even want whatever is out there to know about the existence of the fairies."

The sky over the Forest of Death darkened as the Alceans ate a meal of cold venison and water. The four sailors huddled in the center of the clearing alongside the litter. Print Rigal cast a healing spell on the injured elf, but his expression showed that it was a wasted effort. Around the small group in the center of the clearing sat Karl and the Rangers, each facing the forest in a different direction. Gerant sat alongside the elven prince with a worried look on his face.

"He is not getting any better, is he?" Gerant asked.

"I am afraid not," answered Prince Rigal. "Not only is his hand swollen now, but the swelling is spreading up his arm. All I can do is keep his fever down a bit. I fear that he might not make it through the night."

"The chill in the air is not helping," scowled Gerant. "It will only speed his death. We must try to start a fire again."

"No," Karl said softly. "This wood will not burn properly. We could end up starting a forest fire that would engulf us all."

"So what if it does?" snapped Gerant. "Better a quick death than cowering in this clearing waiting to die. Whatever is out there is not going to allow us to leave the forest. You know that."

"Get a hold of yourself," admonished Prince Rigal. "Do not let fear overwhelm your reason."