Eternal Forest: Savage Rising (10 page)

Perhaps it was time to fulfill their wish.

Azalea smiled and nodded her head. “Your offer is most gracious and undeserved,” she said humbly. “I accept.”

“You mean it?” Mica said enthusiastically. “You will come?”

“Allow me time to prepare,” she answered. “I will arrive in Stonemouth tomorrow morning.”

Chapter 10

              The next day brought mixed feelings to Cherin. He’d been given a bath and warm bed in Viyana’s home. It was the first time since his parent’s death that he’d slept indoors, let alone on a mattress. When he awoke with the sun shining through the window onto his face, it was unlike any morning he’d experienced in years. He was warm and dry. He was wearing clean clothes and he wasn’t in pain with severe hunger. His skin was washed and sweet smelling. His face was cleanly shaven. It all felt so wonderful, like he’d returned to the days of his carefree youth.

             
Then he remembered it all came with a price.

             
“Peasant, wake up!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door. It was accompanied by a series of loud bangs on the oak surface. He didn’t recognize the voice, but there were plenty of servants and guards around Viyana’s manor. “Her Ladyship’s caravan leaves in one hour. Be ready.”

             
Cherin swung his feet out of the bed and set them down on the polished, wood floor. He was on the upper level of the manor, and the very thought of not having solid earth directly beneath him was new. He stood and walked to the window, his back popping as he moved. From his vantage point, he could see the first rays of the sun shining across the rooftops of Meadowgold. His ears were filled with the sounds of birds singing and people going about their business. The wooden wheels of merchant carts rattled against the rocky ground as the owners pulled them down the streets.

             
A folded pile of garments lay on a small table in the corner of the room. Cherin moved to the table and lifted the clothes. They were well made, not suited for nobles, but still nicer than anything he’d had in years. On the floor sat a pair of leather boots. All of the clothes looked brand new, another luxury he’d never been afforded in a great while.

             
These were all the things he’d imagined would fill his life after the construction of Viyana’s new settlement was completed. Here they offered only a fleeting taste of what might have been. He quickly changed into the clothes and made his way down the stairs.

             
Viyana was already dressed in her polished armor. The Lady of Meadowgold sat at the grand table in the main room, dining on bread and wine. Her sword and scabbard lay against the wall by the door. Small, leather belts hung down from the scabbard. She didn’t look up as Cherin descended the staircase on the far wall, but the loud groans of the wood beneath his feet sounded his arrival.

             
“I said we
leave
at dawn, not awaken at dawn,” she said, not looking up from her breakfast.

             
“Apologies, my Lady,” Cherin replied. “It has been years since I slept so well. My body refused to awaken.”

             
Viyana took a sip of wine and set her goblet back on the table. “Well, you best get your body to obey you, or you will find my hospitality short lived.”

             
“Of course, my Lady.”

             
Taking another bite of bread, Viyana rose from her seat and turned to face him. “I see the tailor estimated your size quite well.”

             
“They are the finest clothes I’ve ever owned,” he replied in kind.

             
Viyana scowled. “Do not get ahead of yourself, peasant. You own nothing yet. Convince your brother to bring the Sorceress back to us and we’ll talk about letting you keep the clothes as thanks.”

             
Cherin nodded, trying to disguise the nervous swallow moving against his throat. Everything he’d acquired from Lady Viyana was contingent on wooing his brother and the girl he’d met in the Savage Lands back to the village, a job he still didn’t know how to accomplish. Zehlyr and he hadn’t gotten along well even before his exile, and he doubted his younger sibling would be happy to see him.

             
What made matters worse was his personal feelings on the matter. Just the mention of Zehlyr’s name caused a fire to burn in his heart. Zehlyr had left so abruptly, abandoning him to endure the shame and torment the people of Meadowgold brought down on their family for days. They were interrogated and monitored constantly. Guards were posted around their home for months on the off chance the traitor would return. They were spat on in the streets and ridiculed mercilessly.

With the true criminal out of reach, Cherin and his family became substitutes for people’s ire. Cherin still remembered the look in his father’s eyes as the fever finally took him. He seemed almost happy to die, happy to be free of the burden placed upon him by the sins of his son.

              When Cherin thought of Zehlyr, these were the only images he could conjure. Hate was the only emotion he could feel. More than once, he’d imagined killing his little brother, watching the life leave his eyes as his hands clasped around his throat. It was the end he deserved; his crimes too great to forgive. However, her Ladyship wanted him alive, brought back into the city like a blighted champion. The very thought of it made him sick.

             
“May I speak freely, my Lady?” Cherin asked.

             
Viyana raised an uncertain eyebrow. “At your own risk, street rat,” she replied.

             
Cherin put his palms flat on the table and leaned on his arms. “I have no doubt a band of your finest soldiers will be accompanying us, correct?”

             
“Of course.”

             
“So why do you need me? Why not just bring them back in chains if they are unwilling. Better yet, just kill Zehlyr and bring the Sorceress back alone.”

             
“You’ve seen that girl’s power!” Viyana snapped. “I don’t think an entire army could bring her down. No, I’d rather tempt her back with kindness than the tip of a sword. If she is still with your brother, you will be the only connection I have to either of them.”

             
Cherin grumbled, but nodded.

             
Viyana took up her sword and fastened it to her side. “Well then, if there are no more foolish questions, we ride.”

~~\*/~~

              Cherin had never ventured beyond the borders of Meadowgold in all his life, save the few times he’d gone after wayward sheep. Riding with Viyana’s convoy out of the city and onto the Tri-Leaf Safe Road felt absolutely surreal. Even when he’d ventured a ways into the woods, the thought that there were homes, shops, and people just a few steps back in the other direction gave him a feeling of surety. The further the horses took them towards the dwarven territory, the stranger he felt.

             
The Tri-Leaf Safe Roads were special paths crossing the territories like the strands of a spider’s web. By Tri-Leaf Law, no traveler could be bothered or hindered as long as they were on the road, no matter what territory they traveled in. The stories told of high tension between the tribes before the Great Blight, and that stepping off the road could mean death if caught in unfriendly surroundings. Since the pact was resigned and a new council established, many new roads had been added to the map. Venturing off them wasn’t the death sentence it was many years ago, but travelers still stuck to them to communicate their peaceful intentions.

             
This road dipped south below the old road where the trees were a bit thinner and the ground smoother. It was a perfect path for trade routes between the humans and the dwarves, as horses and carts could travel it unhindered. From the multitudes of different footprints upon the well-trodden dirt, it was easy to see many had made the journey to Stonemouth recently in search of food.

             
Even though Cherin rode with Viyana and her band of soldiers, he was far from part of the group. He rode in the middle, with two horses far behind and the rest at the head of the pack. There was a great distance between them. No one spoke to him, or even looked at him as they rode. Even though he was dressed nicely and riding atop one of the same noble horses they were, he was not a person to them. He was a tool, a means to an end and nothing more.

             
Between his treatment from Viyana’s soldiers and the prospect of begging Zehlyr to come home, Cherin found plenty of thoughts to make his blood run hot. He needed a distraction, something positive to clear the darkness from his mind. Trying to expel the negativity, his thoughts turned to the prospect of seeing Stonemouth. The legendary city of the dwarves was said to be carved out of the side of a cliff. A tall wall of stone chiseled over hundreds of years into a marvelous metropolis of economic prosperity. He’d heard tales of the fires of industry that burned from within the structures, as the dwarves worked hard to produce the finest metalwork in the Lands of Order.

             
In truth, Cherin had never even met a dwarf before. He’d seen drawings and heard of them in tales, but his own eyes had never beheld one. He and Zehlyr had lived a rather sheltered life. They’d seen elves once when a caravan of merchants came through Meadowgold from Moon-hollow via the Safe Road. A centaur wandered through once and no one ever knew why, and he’d never beheld a faerie before either. He may be on this journey for strange and unpleasant reasons, but there were at least some reasons to enjoy himself. With the prospect of returning to the streets after Viyana’s errand was completed, he decided it would be best to take delight in as much of this adventure as he could.

             
“How far is it to Stonemouth?” Cherin asked to anyone that would listen. He was more looking for some sort of recognition than an actual answer.

             
“At this pace, we’ll reach it long before the sun sets,” Viyana answered. She didn’t turn her head to speak. “Just make sure your horse doesn’t get exhausted and we’ll be fine.”

             
“I’ve never been out of the territory before,” Cherin said, trying desperately to turn her response into a full conversation. “I’ve never even left Meadowgold. It feels strange to…”

             
Viyana suddenly raised a fist into the air as she pulled on the reigns of her horse. With a grunt of protest, the animal came to a stop. Following her example, the other guards stopped, too. Cherin trotted on a few more steps before he was able to make the creature obey his command.

             
“What is it?” Cherin asked.

             
“Silence!” Viyana whisper-shouted.

             
“I’m sorry,” Cherin said softly. “I just…”

             
“Hold your tongue or I will cut it out!”

             
Finally obeying, Cherin went silent. Viyana closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. Cherin thought she looked like a statue. Her breathing slowed to almost perfect stillness. Her soldiers followed her example, becoming quiet and still as though deep in meditation. With his fellow travelers still and silent, the faint sounds that grabbed Viyana’s attention became more noticeable. There was a rumbling coming from the northwest, back along the path they’d already taken. As they waited and listened, the sound became louder. There were other sounds with the rumbling now as well, sounds Cherin hadn’t heard in years, and never in this kind of plurality.

             
There was a furious chorus of hisses and clicks.

             
Cherin watched as Viyana’s head whipped around to the west. Her eyes shot open. She took in a fast breath, but did not release it. Cherin didn’t need to ask. He recognized the sound, too. “Balisekts,” he said softly to himself.

             
Viyana quickly drew her sword. The sound of scraping metal echoed off the nearby trees. “Soldiers, with me! Hurry!” she commanded as she kicked at the steed with her heels. The horse reared back before galloping back along the trail they’d already covered. The soldiers drew their weapons and rode off after her. Cherin wasn’t sure what part her Ladyship intended for him to play in this, but he was too curious not to go with them. He kicked at his steed, but the animal nearly threw him off in protest.

             
Cherin gripped tightly on the reins, his knuckles turning white against the leather straps. His biceps ached as he held himself atop his mount with all his might. Finally, the horse obeyed and took him back along the trail with great haste. The trees and shrubs rushed by as he rode. The others were already far ahead of him, stopped and huddled together at the crest of a small hill. The closer they got to the eastern mountains, the hiller their path had become. Rolling slopes had sent them up and down over and over for the last several miles.

             
Upon reaching the top of the hill, Cherin once again had to fight with the horse so it wouldn’t continue bounding down the other side. With his mount once again still, Cherin studied the faces of his fellow travelers. None of them seemed to notice he was there. They all just stared down the hill, completely fixated on whatever they saw.

             
Too afraid to look and yet too curious not to, Cherin turned his gaze down the road. The hill they stood on gave way to a long, downward slope into the lower valley of the forest. He remembered the protests his horse had grunted at having to climb such an obstacle. However, the vantage point let them see for a good two miles across the tops of the trees and below to the forest floor.