Fifthwind (27 page)

Kyla
said, "And there are also those who have studied magic for the
purposes of good. Not all wielders of the Fifthwind need be feared. I
don't have the knowledge they do, but I'm getting stronger; my
understanding is growing. Even then, I'll not be alone, there will be
others who will take up the fight against them. Others, like me, but
with even greater power and strength."

Suddenly,
Ben understood what he had not been willing to see before. This
simple historian and his remarkable daughter had not arrived here by
chance. They had not come here seeking the answers to history's
riddles. They were both fully aware of what awaited them here in
Kishell Springs, and they had intentionally come to face it.

"You've
not been entirely honest with me Vincent. You've sought out this
place not for scholarly advancement, but rather to participate, to
play a role in the events as they unfold."

Kyla
bowed her head, and emphatically gave in to Ben's observation. "They
can not be allowed to win."

Vincent
gripped Ben's shoulder and smiled with enthusiasm, "We just have to
hold out until our allies reveal themselves. The Fahd are here... and
they will need our help. Kishell Springs is but one of many locations
where the Fifthwind is gaining strength. Both sides will be drawn to
those areas, and confrontation between the opposing factions is
unavoidable."

Ben
had been too caught up in immediate problems to see the bigger
picture. Another war was the last thing that Kreggoria needed. After
a half century engulfed in hostilities with the Tanian Empire, the
Kingdom was in no position to step into another conflict. There was
no longer any doubt in his mind that King Erlich needed to be
informed immediately. This was not a simple matter of reinforcements
needed in a remote mountain trading town. What was happening in
Kishell Springs was the birthing pains of something much larger,
possibly at a scale not seen for a thousand years.

"Greggor!
Trent!" Ben called back in the ranks, and in a matter of moments,
the two men trotted forward and presented themselves.

"Yes
sir," Greggor said with a clenched fist slapped against his thigh.
It was the traditional field salute, designed to hide the identity of
officers from spying eyes on the battlefield. The more formal, and
visible salutes were reserved for ceremony and pomp.

"Get
back to the Masked Pig, and prepare to make a run for the west. Pack
enough supplies to get as far as possible without rest. Take Trent
and choose three more men to accompany you."

"The
west, Sir? How far west?"

Ben
reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a small scroll. He placed
the message squarely in Greggor's hand and curled the veteran's rough
fingers around it. "I want you to personally deliver this to the
King. Our lands are under attack by hostile and powerful forces. All
defenses must be mobilized immediately."

"Provided
we make it to the High Court to deliver this message, what details
should I convey?"

Everything
that His Highness needs to know is outlined in in that message which
is signed by both myself and Captain Taddus Haddaway. It details
certain events and circumstances that will be difficult for the King
to believe, but he
must
believe. You have to find a way to
convince him. Now get going. Don't wait for my return, leave as soon
as you can."

Kyla
interrupted, "You've already written a message to the King?"

Ben
nodded to the two soldiers who quickly turned and ran south. He then
turned back to Kyla and Vincent and frowned, "I didn't write that
message. I recovered it from Tad's cottage after the attack that cost
him his life. Even though he wrote the message with the intent of
sending it if necessary, Captain Haddaway would never have sent out
the message until he was sure there was no other choice. I've held
this message close, not sure what to do with it. It wasn't until now
that I agreed with his intention."

Vincent
turned an angry eye to Ben, "We can handle this ourselves! You're
going to escalate this into a war!"

"The
fate of Kishell Springs is in our hands, and you're correct that we
might be able to deal with the troubles here on our own. But the fate
of Kreggoria must rest in the hands of her King. You just said there
are other locations that will draw similar attention by those who
oppose us. How many areas can we defend? How can we be everywhere at
once?"

Vincent
kicked at the snow, turned his back and walked away with heavy feet.
"We need to find those statues. That is the answer to our needs."

Ben
moved to intercept the angry scholar, but Kyla restrained him. "Let
him go. He is just a proud man. He's always believed he could stop
this before it starts."

"And
what do you think?"

Kyla
smiled thoughtfully. "You've done what is needed. Father has
prepared for this for many years, but his confidence may be
exaggerated."

William
moved past the two as they talked and paused only long enough to get
their attention. "There will be more choices to make before this is
over. Kingdom forces will go far in protecting these lands, but in
the end, it is the Fahd who will save us. I asked you once before,
and I'm asking again now."

"Asking
what?"

"The
world is changing, have you chosen your path?"

Ben
instantly remembered his initial meeting with Brother Babbitt on his
first night in the Masked Pig. The strange holy man had confronted
him with the question weeks before he truly understood its
implications.

William
continued, "The Fahd will be drawn to Kishell Springs. You might
well be the first, even if you don't want to believe it. If the
events here do not draw their attention, then your use of their
skills most certainly will. I'd imagine someone like yourself would
be of immediate interest, since the skills you've demonstrated are
unique to The Fahd. One way or the other, they will come... then
again, maybe they already have." He grinned and trotted away to
join Vincent several paces away.

No
sooner than William had departed, Gordo and Mason moved to take their
place at Ben's side. Mason sneered at Babbitt's back, "At least
they didn't wait until we were all dead to tell the whole story."

Kyla
stiffened.

Ben
calmed her with a reassuring hand. He took in a deep breath and
sighed out his tension. He said, "They're not to blame, they've
never really hidden any of this from us. Vincent only downplayed the
weight of the situation with hope of keeping it from escalating. Even
Tad knew what was going on around here and still had held out on the
chance that it could be resolved locally. I just can't afford to make
that mistake."

Gordo
shrugged. "It doesn't change anything. We still have the same
problems as before. Why worry about the details? At least now we know
more about what we face."

Mason
nodded resolutely, "He's right. Like it or not, we're here in the
thick of it. If it's a war those bastards want, then I say we give
them one."

Ben
chuckled, "It's always been easy for you."

"Why
make it more difficult than it needs to be? Just point me at them and
order a charge." The old solider swatted Gordo firmly on the
shoulder. "That's what we do best."

Ben
squeezed Kyla's hand. "If those statues hold any information that
can help us, then I'm going to need you. Your father has a way of
being too indirect. I want to know what he knows, but in a way that I
can understand. That's where you can help."

"Well,
let's get moving then," Mason said, pulling ahead. "It won't take
too much longer to get there."

The
group crested the last hill leading out of town, leaving behind their
only sense of security. They were now isolated, exposed and in enemy
territory. The Murg always had unhindered control over the forests
surrounding Kishell Springs, but the outskirts of town had been
forfeited and could no longer be considered safe. Walking in the
shadow of the crumbling tower that had found a new purpose as the
Temple of the Two Sisters, they proceeded toward the end of the
valley where the forest began.

Gordo
called ahead to William, "I hope you don't spend too much time up
in that tower. I'd bet just your footfalls are enough to get it
swaying. It looks like it could fall with even the slightest touch."

William
dropped back from Vincent's side and joined Gordo. He smirked, "It's
not quite that bad, but you're right that the upper levels aren't
safe. I spend almost all my time in the main structure or in the
sub-levels. The tower itself holds no interest to me."

Ben
perked up. "Sub-levels? How extensive are they?"

"There's
a lot down under there, being that it was once the heart of the
Stonewall compound. Most of the other passages around town lead here,
except that most of them are collapsed. There are even a few that
lead farther outside of town but I don't venture too far. I'm a bit
bothered by narrow places. I can't breathe in cramped quarters."

"Any
leading back to the old barracks?" Mason asked, referring to the
three main inns.

"Maybe
some of the collapsed tunnels used to, but I don't think there are
any that are still passable."

Ben
leaned in closer to William, cleared his throat and said, "Are you
sure you aren't leaving anything out?"

William
made a face that looked like something between anger and anguish,
"I've concealed nothing! I've done nothing but try and be helpful
in all of this." Speechless, he blinked his eyes several times.
Then, noticing the grin on Ben's face, the corners of his own lips
turned upward into a smile. "You are a very special man, Ben.
Before this is all over, everyone will know that."

Brother
Babbitt gripped Ben's hand in both of his own and half-bowed from his
waist. Then, with a apparently weightless gait, trotted back to join
Vincent who trudged heavily through the snow.

Ben
looked ahead to the grove they were approaching. It had been well
over a month, but what remained of a burnt cottage was visible at the
edge of the trees; the scent of charred wood still hung on the air.
The events that had transpired at that spot had changed his life
forever and seemed so long ago and as if someone else had lived them.
For a moment, he found himself back in time and was excited about the
prospect of starting a new life here in the Eastern Realm along side
his closest friends Tad and Mason. He brought himself back to the
present and reminded himself that things do not always turn out the
way dreams and desires intend.

The
smooth, gray bark of the now leafless poplars grew in thick bunches
over the hills, while large evergreens dominated the slopes higher up
on the Kreggorian range. Missing, was the dense foliage from the
branches above and the leafy undergrowth that had made the forest so
dark and impenetrable by curious eyes. The forest was now naked in
winter's embrace, unable to easily conceal its secrets. The cold,
white sky hung low, just above the trees like a canopy draped over
the supporting branches.

The
random rise and fall of the land revealed an endless maze of gullies
and washes that moved between the hills. Every hilltop was peppered
with a repetitious pattern of tree trunks against a gray sky and set
in powdery white snow. Keeping one's bearings was difficult in an
environment where every direction looked the same.

Mason
trudged forward, guiding the expedition higher into the foothills
until they reached the darker and colder pine forest. They followed a
gully between two ridges that continued to rise higher until rough,
rocky walls showed themselves on either side of the growing gulch.
The snowcapped peaks loomed over the box canyon and the forest
thickened on the slopes, all but blocking out the pale white daylight
of an overcast sky.

Ben
moved to the front of the group where Mason marched ahead steadily.
"It's not much farther is it?"

"We're
just about there," said Mason. "It's not quite as far as it
seems, it's just that the uneven landscape makes it hard to get there
in a straight line."

The
canyon widened into a clearing where a small creek cascaded into a
series of pools that were too shallow to overrun their banks and
trickle off down the dry wash. The densely wooded hillside shaded the
glade and channeled a steady breeze from higher on the mountain down
through the canyon and into the faces of the small team. Wind and
steep canyon walls had sheltered the canyon from the night's snowfall
and only a light blanket of fluffy white covered the ground.

"This
is the place," Mason said, pointing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Throughout
the clearing, massive, irregularly shaped boulders, the size of
houses, poked up through the snow like great, hunched-back mourners.
Ages of wind and rain and rushing high waters had smoothed and shaped
the ancient rocks into a labyrinth of stone oddities. Among the maze
of rock, leafless trees stood like cadaverous hands reaching skyward.
The scattered placement of the boulders created walled passageways
between them that were lit by the sky above but caught in the shadows
cast by neighboring rock. Every step offered another choice in the
turns among the crags and crevices of the boulder field.

Mason
continued to lead the way through the maze of rock, until the group
emerged into a small swath of clear land. In the midst of the
surrounding boulders, and almost completely concealed within them,
was a group of statues arranged in a semi-circle.

Eroded
and silent in the remote canyon, it was no surprise that the statues
had gone undetected for so long. Given the odd shaped boulders, the
spiny, leafless shrubs and the patchwork shadows cast by the tall
pines higher on the ridge-line, they could have easily gone unnoticed
for decades. Centuries, in fact.