Fifthwind (26 page)

"Of
course," Gordo grunted with an air of sarcasm.

Ben
said, "You said you saw three men? Can you be sure it wasn't the
same man each time?"

"Well,
no, but they were miles apart, literally hours on horseback. There's
no way it could have been the same man every time. No one could've
moved that fast."

Ben
said, "What about the Murg? How many are out there, and what's you
estimation of their abilities?"

Gordo
said, "We're in a lot of trouble. Those things are everywhere. Even
the wild ones that are unarmed were enough to overpower us in the
night and kill all ten of my men. Mr. Hoff and his son didn't stand a
chance against them either. Now, with winter setting in, we are going
to be stuck here for the duration."

"We
can beat the Murg," Mason objected. "They're not smart enough to
be a threat. There might be hundreds of them roaming the forests
around here, but they're not all equipped with weapons and armor."

"Armed
or not, there's just too many of them," Gordo said.

Ben
spoke to Vincent, "We need to find who's behind these attacks and
why."

Vincent
answered, "The Core has been waiting a very long time for the
Fifthwind to return and they'll stop at nothing to control its power
for themselves. They're greedy men who seek power and if they find
what they seek, they'll launch an attack against all of Kreggoria."

"And
what are they looking for?"

"The
source of the Fifthwind. With it, I'm afraid they'll be unstoppable.
I think the Murg are being used to keep us busy while they seek out
that prize."

Babbitt
continued, "And there are few that have the strength to defeat
them. Only The Eleven would have a chance, but they haven't appeared
to us yet."

"The
Fahd," Ben said, "are probably not even real. Some stories are
just stories... nothing more."

"You've
demonstrated the skills yourself," Vincent argued. "Inside, you
know they're real."

Ben
shrugged and stepped away from the table. "Possible, but unlikely."

Mason
rubbed the back of his neck as he often did when he was bothered by
something. "A few months ago, we'd be saying the same thing about
the Murg. We don't have time to argue about what is possible or not.
At this point, we have to assume that everything is possible."

Ben
turned back to the table and sighed, "I guess you're right."

"So,
what are we going to do about this?" Gordo asked.

Ben
said, "If we assume the worst, then someone right here in Kishell
Springs is trying to gain control of the Fifthwind. If Vincent's
right, they would then use that power against the Kingdom. That's
something that we cannot allow to happen. Are we agreed?"

There
was general approval from those gathered.

"I
know you said not to point fingers," William stuttered, "but do
you think it could be someone we know? Could it be one of us, or one
of the townsfolk?"

Ben
looked to Vincent for an answer and the old scholar shrugged with a
worried frown. "I suppose anything is possible, but I think it's
more likely that they would stay hidden away from us. If I had to
guess, I'd say that we might have seen them by now, but I don't think
they're hiding among us. They're nearby... but not that near."

"How
can you be sure of that?" William asked nervously.

"I
can't be," Vincent answered. "But I trust everyone at this
table."

Ben
crossed his arms and resolutely agreed. "We can't let go of that
trust, all we have is each other. I don't want to see anymore finger
pointing or talk of suspicions." He turned his attention to
Vincent. "Now, what is all the excitement about those statues Mason
spotted north of town?"

"Are
we going?" Vincent said, rising from his chair.

"Only
if you can give me a damned good reason why you think it's
important."

William
Babbitt cleared his throat, "Those statues might hold the key to
ending this nightmare once and for all."

"All
of a sudden, you seem to know a lot about all this," said Ben to
the chubby holy man. "Either you've been paying a lot of attention
to Vincent's ramblings over the last several months, or you're more
than you seem."

Vincent
said, "I've known Brother Babbitt for quite some time now, we've
shared many interests over the years. He helped me raise Kyla when
her mother became ill and even stayed at our side after she died."

William
said in a hushed, enigmatic whisper, "We came here together, the
three of us, in search of Stonewall and the secrets this place
holds."

"What
secrets?" Mason asked.

Vincent
swatted the holy man playfully with the back of his hand, "Don't be
so dramatic! You sound like a fool talking like that."

William
didn't appear to appreciate the public scolding. "And if you
weren't such a fool, you would have found those statues by now.
You've been searching for months—"

Vincent
sneered, "With no help from you—"

"That's
enough!" Ben shouted. "Both of you stop your petty bickering.
What's so important about those statues?"

Vincent
turned back to Ben and continued, "Those statues could possibly be
the site of the Breaking of the Soul. The exact spot where a young
woman crippled the Fifthwind nearly a thousand years ago."

"The
source of the Fifthwind..." Ben muttered.

"You
have to take me to those statues," Vincent insisted. "If I can
just examine the area, I might be able to learn something about The
Core's plans. Maybe even figure out how to stop them."

Ben
looked to Mason who shrugged indifferently. He knew he would have to
act quickly if they were to have time to get out to the site of those
statues and still have time to return before nightfall. "How many
men will we need to do this, Sergeant?"

"If
the Murg have pulled back for the day, then we'll be fine with only a
few. On the other hand, if the Murg are waiting for us out there,
then it doesn't really matter how many men we have. We'll be
slaughtered."

"Assemble
twenty of your best, we leave in ten minutes." To Vincent, Ben
said, "Once there, I'll give you an hour."

"Understood,"
Vincent smiled. "I've got to get a few reference books. I'll be
right back." At that, he hurried for the back hallway where the
entrance to his underground library was waiting.

"Can
I go too?" William asked. "I won't slow you down and I'll do
anything you say."

Ben
shrugged, "If you can keep from quarreling with Vincent, it's fine
with me. Just keep pace, don't start any trouble, and try not to get
lost while hiding from your own shadow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Looking
back, Ben noticed the long trail of footprints he and his band of
twenty-five had left in the snow. The slow trek through the main
residential district of Kishell Springs was strangely unnerving.
Normally awake and bustling at all hours in preparation for the
influx of travelers, it was now eerily quiet. A few people had
returned to retrieve belongings from their homes, but they moved
quietly and spoke in hushed tones. The area was now abandoned,
listless, and foreboding.

The
warmth of the sun iced the top layer of the snow and each footfall
crunched through the crusty surface leaving behind a clearly defined
print. In places, tufts of grass poked up through the icy white,
showing that the depth was only several inches in most cases. The
drifts against buildings, boulders or trees could reach the knees,
but for the most part, the snowfall had been light.

"We've
left tracks in the snow," Ben mused mostly to himself.

"It'd
be difficult not to," Vincent scoffed, clutching his cloak's hood
tight over his ears. "What did you expect, for us to float over the
ground?"

"I'd
expect to see more tracks. We're not the only ones to pass through
here this morning."

Kyla
stopped and looked back the way they had come. "He's right, the
Murg came through here in numbers. There should be tracks all over
this road."

Mason
stepped up from behind, where he had been walking with Gordo. "That's
what I was telling you yesterday. Sometimes they leave tracks,
sometimes they don't. Most of the time, the tracks run for a short
distance and then just end abruptly. I can't make any sense of it."

Ben
considered the implications of the mystery. "If they can disappear
in mid-stride, then I have to assume that they can reappear just as
unexpectedly. Pass word for the men to be especially vigilant. Make
sure they understand we could conceivably be attacked at any moment
and without warning."

Despite
the uncertainty of what they might face, Ben did not doubt the
capabilities of the team. Mason and Gordo were both highly skilled
veterans, as were Mason's men who had been hand picked by Tad
Haddaway, a man notorious for choosing the best. Most of the rest
were at seasoned caravan guards and what remained were fit enough to
carry a sword and follow orders. The assembled team was small but
capable, and Ben was certain that they could hold up against a dozen
Murg with little or no casualties. Ben was cautious by nature and
could not put himself completely at ease, but he at least felt
prepared for the outing.

William
Babbitt, Vincent Woodlock and the scholar's daughter Kyla were the
only among the group without combat experience. Ben was not entirely
thrilled about any of them moving about in dangerous places, but they
were the only ones who knew anything about the history of the region,
which was the entire reason for the expedition to begin with. Whether
Ben liked it or not, Vincent knew more about the Murg and the
implications of their appearance than any man in Kishell Springs.
Possibly more than anyone, anywhere.

Ben
moved up next to Vincent and said, "Other than face to face, you
don't seem to hold any real fear of the Murg. You talk of them as if
they're just a passing attraction. Anyone else would be terrified."

"You
have to remember, the Murg are not a willful threat to us or any
other human inhabitants in the mountains. Oh, sure, if you run across
one you'll regret it. They're probably one of the more aggressive
predators these hills are likely to see for quite some time, and they
need to be respected with at least as much caution as you would give
a bear, or mountain cat. But, for the most part, they're just a wild
nuisance that people will need to learn to accept as a part of our
changing world."

Kyla
added, "But under the control of The Core, they can be a horrible
tool. Someone has equipped them with weapons and armor, and trained
them to attack us."

Vincent
said,"I wouldn't go so far as to say they had to be trained. Given
the opportunity, they would still attack an unsuspecting traveler who
may wander into the remote areas of the forests. But, Kyla is correct
that someone is putting these creatures on our doorstep and pointing
them in our direction. Otherwise, they would tend to keep to
themselves."

Regardless
of what Vincent was saying, Ben knew that the Murg were more than
mere animals, showing an intelligence that was, at the very least,
equal to that of a human child. Even a dull wit, when combined with
strength and raw savagery, was a combination greater than
intelligence alone. He understood the intent of Vincent's words and
was relieved to hear, yet again, that the Murg were not acting on
their own desires. It didn't lessen the danger, but it did give him a
little more room to work. "If we destroy those who control them,
then we destroy the threat."

"For
the most part, yes," Vincent agreed. "Eliminate The Core and the
Murg will go away."

Ben
paused to consider what he had come to understand about those behind
the assault. The Core, as Vincent had called them, was an enemy that
he could not really fathom. A secretive force with ambitions that, on
the surface, seemed to be exaggerated. What kind of group could have
the determination and patience to wait such an outlandishly long time
for what they sought?

Ben
said, "I have no problem believing that they've been waiting
centuries for the Fifthwind to return. Over the years, I've run
across a few cults that believe even stranger things, and devout
followers who were just barely on this side of sanity. But to think
that, after all this time, they still know how to use the Fifthwind
to perform magic. That's a bit much to swallow."

"Some,
like myself, will seek out curious things, to better understand the
changes the world is experiencing. But there are some who have waited
for ages for the source of their power to return. They've passed
their knowledge from one generation to the next, and have practiced
even when nothing could be gained from doing so. There have always
been great sorcerers in our world with skills handed down through
time. Believe it or not, wizards have always walked among us."

"Always?"

"They've
moved among the wealthy and powerful as prominent citizens. They have
studied their craft in the dark of night, and in secret meetings in
secret places for generations. They've always been in position to
overthrow the King and gain control and domination over his people."
Vincent stopped and took on a more serious tone, "They've only
lacked the power to fuel their spells. Like oil without a spark, the
potential was always there, but not the means. But that has changed
now... their time has arrived."

Ben
stopped abruptly in the snow. "You've never put it as bluntly
before. Even if we can defend ourselves against the Murg...how can we
stop such a power?"

Vincent
smiled, "It'll be difficult. However, there has always been a
balance. There are others who have been waiting and watching as well.
The Fahd will soon come out of hiding, and they command skills that
can counter them."