Five Kingdoms (11 page)

Ahead of Xu Liang, the guards were fighting with skill and honor. It was the presence of Guang Ci and the Night Blade that enabled them to do so as long as they had been and apparently without noticeable injury. The power of
Behel
intimidated, inspiring the centaurs to fight warily. Some tried to avoid Guang Ci altogether. Others drew back to fire upon him with their bows, only to have their arrows caught in the vapor of the Night Blade and hurled back at them.

Behind the onslaught stood the centaur who had blown the horn and summoned his fellow beasts. The eyes were set on Xu Liang, embarking on challenge with a glare of contempt that was present enough to be viewed across the battlefield. Noticing seemed to provoke the centaur further. He drew his bow and very deliberately took aim at Xu Liang, in blatant disregard for the dome that had thus far protected him.

“What’s he doing?” Taya asked.

Xu Liang did not answer. The arrow was fired. Closing his eyes, Xu Liang whispered a prayer to his ancestors, that the wind might carry Mei Qiao’s light. When he opened his eyes again, a shard of blue magic sailed out to meet the arrow, skimming off the head and slicing the shaft down the center. The remains tumbled and what may have been the chief centaur lowered his bow. He raised his horn afterward, casting out the whining blare once more, this time calling back his ranks.

Forest Guardian

N
one of the battle
had gone the way Fu Ran imagined, and in some ways feared it would. The Valley Lords had come, and they had not been men. Tristus had not gone berserk, and perhaps it had been unfair of Fu Ran to assume that he would. After all, he had battled hordes of the keirveshen and not unleashed that particular fury. Of course, that had been before Tristus had grown fond enough of anyone to panic at the prospect of them being murdered before him.

Fu Ran supposed it didn’t actually matter. They’d faced the Valley Lords and no one had been killed or significantly injured. Somehow, in spite of that fact, he couldn’t feel satisfied.

Xu Liang sat upon a flat rock, resting while the others reorganized so that they could move on quickly from the scene. He didn’t believe they should overplay this advantage, and Fu Ran agreed. It was possible that the centaurs might return in greater numbers. Not enough of their numbers were left dead on the field, but Fu Ran could only assume that the centaurs would return to reclaim the bodies, or avenge them.

“What should we do?” he finally asked, stalking a short path in front of Xu Liang’s rock while the energy to carry on fighting lingered. The fight had ended too suddenly for him to feel exhausted by it.

“We should carry on toward the mountains,” Xu Liang answered. “But I suspect that is not precisely what you mean.”

“They had a trap laid for us,” Fu Ran reminded. “One that not even the elf could uncover.”

“They walk on the feet of animals,” Xu Liang replied. “I doubt that any of us would have discovered traces of their stalking us and recognized the significance of the discovery.”

“Probably not,” Fu Ran admitted. He stopped pacing for the time being and folded his arms tightly over his chest, his gaze caught by the dwarves while they negotiated with the yak. It had trotted off during the battle, but not far. In the process it had shaken only a few items that were easily repacked. But now, smelling bloodshed, it had no interest in continuing in the direction they had been going. Fu Ran doubted that a carrot was going to convince it better.

“We must quickly determine whether to cross through the forest, or find a route around it,” Xu Liang continued.

The statement inspired Fu Ran to look toward the long line of trees between them and the mountains. “A route around could take days.”

“Yes,” Xu Liang answered with a nod. “But to go through the forest could be to antagonize those who consider themselves the rulers of this region. It is possible that they also consider themselves the rightful people of this land.”

“Which would make us trespassers,” Fu Ran said. And then he shook his head. “Seems preposterous. The history of this region is a history written by men.”

“Perhaps without consideration for centaurs,” Xu Liang added.

Fu Ran waved away the notion. “That’s too sympathetic, coming from an officer of the Imperial Court.”

The comment earned him a disapproving look, which Fu Ran suspected it would. He shook his head. “The Valley of Kings was named for the clans that occupied this region, generations ago, all of them despising one another. They fought down to the last of their numbers, until there weren’t enough left to fight over who would be the king of Aer.”

“The conflict sounds unpleasantly familiar in tone,” Xu Liang commented.

“This is not Sheng Fan,” Fu Ran said to him. “The fools of this region fought each other for sovereignty over land that no one else wanted. Meanwhile the true king of Aer capitalized on trade at the coast, got fat, and sired plenty of children. All of the bloodshed here was meaningless.”

Again, the mystic cast a look of disagreement and dissatisfaction upon Fu Ran. Again, Fu Ran ignored it. “Regardless of this area’s history, those beast-men are murderers and thieves. They lurk in hiding, waiting for travelers to happen along, who they then kill and rob. They’re the same as pirates, but unsightlier.”

“They’re not the same,” Alere stated while he approached. “
Aerkiren
sang in their presence.”

The difficulty in
communicating with Fu Ran was that he refused to listen when a topic unsettled him. A population of men who were also beasts was unsettling, yes, but not to be dismissed simply because they had gone. Even if they were to be compared to pirates, Fu Ran, of all people, knew the tenacity of such men. Xu Liang would not rule out the possibility of a second attack, and he would not overlook the feelings of entitlement or revenge they might have carried. It was upon him now to conceive of a plan that would carry them from an established danger, one that Alere’s statement had painted worse.

Tristus arrived only a few steps behind the white elf, and contributed his own theory. “Do you believe the Twilight Blade responded to the centaurs, or to the darkness of that cave you mentioned some of them were lurking in?”

Alere said simply, “I did not investigate the cave. That’s also possible.”

“They were beasts without a doubt,” Fu Ran said. “But they didn’t look like shadow beasts.”

“Not necessarily, no,” Tristus agreed.

“They might not have been,” Alere concurred. “But recall that it was difficult to tell with Vorhaven.”

Tristus nodded, conceding to what he had witnessed.

Fu Ran sighed deeply, but evenly, and continued to observe the now derelict tree line.

“We will continue through the forest,” Xu Liang decided. It seemed the most favorable option, simply for its shorter distance. The centaurs might have initiated their attack from the forest, but they had not confined themselves to it. The larger of their numbers had been hiding among the rocks, and they held the clear advantage on such terrain. Xu Liang reiterated, “The forest will be the swiftest route. It is also possible that the centaurs will not expect us to continue forward. They may have gone further south in order to lay another trap, or they may have been witness to power in the Blades that has inspired them to reconsider further attack.”

Tristus nodded, because he seemed to believe that to be a legitimate outcome. Alere remained noncommittally silent, and Fu Ran heaved a shorter breath that alluded to worry that they would be walking into another confrontation.

A patch of deep red drew Xu Liang’s attention beyond Alere and Tristus. He observed the wayward stallion for only a moment before nodding in its direction.

Tristus and Alere both looked over their shoulders. The knight’s gaze lingered the longest, and he eventually sighed before heading off to reclaim the horse.

“Sylvashen appears particularly dissatisfied with the environs,” Xu Liang commented, and it brought him to the subject of Alere’s mount. “While Breigh seems at home.”

“The terrain is different than home,” Alere said. “But there are similarities overall.”

“But there’s more to it than that,” Xu Liang said, prompting for further explanation. Having witnessed the centaurs, he’d formed some speculations about a horse bred by elves for quietly and effortlessly traversing slick and uneven ground.

“Yes, there is,” Alere admitted with ease that was perhaps singular to him. He whistled to Breigh, who had been sharing rest in a patch of exposed grass alongside Blue Crane. The mare took slow, though immediate steps from the other horse, quickening to a light trot before reaching her master. There seemed no place among the rocks where she could not find footing.

Xu Liang examined her closely for the first time. Her snowy pelt was of a thicker variety, the texture not much different than her mane and tail, though it was still short overall. She herself was shorter than the other animals, though she was no pony. Xu Liang had attributed that to her being the only mare present, but observing her form, he noticed some minor differences that set her apart from what was perhaps best labeled her equine cousins. Xu Liang paid particular attention to her hooves, which were not shod. Alere made that clear by instructing Breigh to raise one leg. He caught her ankle and gently turned the hoof into view. As suspected, the structure was not typical of a horse. It was cloven and above the heel were small claws similar to those of a goat. She was indeed a creature bred in the mountains.

“Verressi horses in legend were said to be the offspring of wild horses and mountain goats,” Alere explained, letting go Breigh’s ankle.

Xu Liang bowed his head, accepting and appreciating the information.

“I’ve heard there are similar breeds in Arjhen,” Fu Ran said. “I’ve never seen one, though.
Pride’s
course falls short of that region. In fact, I’ll be meeting my ship just on the border once we’ve finished getting the lot of you to safer ground.”

He nodded toward the north, indicating the route he intended to take.

“It will be wise not to retrace this path,” Xu Liang said, and he looked at Fu Ran. Their gazes met, conveying in silence that neither of them looked forward to separation.

The arrival of Shirisae put an end to the wordless conversation.

“The keirveshen were hiding in the shadows of your cliffs, weren’t they?” Fu Ran said to the lady elf as she came to stand just behind and to the side of Xu Liang’s rock.

“They were,” Shirisae confirmed.

“So, that may be the reason for the magic of Alere’s sword to awaken,” Fu Ran continued. “Tristus may be right.”

Xu Liang nodded, and then concluded, “We will be cautious.”

They entered the
forest with care; care to the animals, to themselves, and in regards to the possibility of further attack. Movement became less of a hazard once the rocks were behind them. There was a small bridge to cross, but it was managed through patient effort. Even the yak fit between its broken railing with room to spare. No items, nor any life was lost, though it occurred to Tristus that a wrong step could have equated to certain disaster. The breaks in the ground seemed as deep as the mountain canyons of Andaria, but there was only the smallest of spaces through which a body could fall. It would tempt recklessness in many, that a body might simply leap across the space. Perhaps they could, but to gauge such a jump incorrectly…

He felt grateful when they left the rift and the bridge behind them. The cave and the neighboring ruins became the next concern. Both appeared truly abandoned, but Alere had assured him that their state had been identical, moments before the centaurs emerged.

“I’m grateful you weren’t hurt,” he said to Alere, who was not scouting ahead just now. In light of the circumstances, everyone agreed—including Alere—that it would be safest to stay together.