From Across the Clouded Range (70 page)

Another "Yes, sir!" and the guard was
away. He returned a minute later with four plates brimming with
slightly undercooked turkey and a few charred onions.

The officers and Dasen ate in silence.
All of them finished their food, but none requested more. When they
were finished, Sergeant Rathman fetched folding stools and another
guard followed him with fuel for the fire.

Captain Hobbleswood pulled a pipe from his
green officer’s jacket, stuffed it with tobacco, and used a stick
from the fire to get it going. When he was puffing intently, he
fixed Dasen with a steely gaze that was intensified by the
flickering shadows from the fire. Two puffs on the pipe and the
captain began to speak in what was supposed to be a friendly tone,
but his dominating presence and rich voice made it sound more
commanding than conversational. "I’ll want you to tell me your
story in detail, but I think it is important that you hear ours
first. It may help you think of some aspects of your own tale that
you have forgotten or would not consider important now."

The captain took a long puff from the
pipe but never moved his eyes from where they held Dasen's. When
his words returned, they sounded far away as if traveling through
time itself. "We first ran into the invaders six days ago. Our unit
was coming into Rycroft, when the forward scouts reported that the
village was under attack. We had trouble believing them, but when
we arrived on the hill above the town, it was just as they’d
said.

“
We got there just in time
to see the attackers, huge mounted men, finish the garrison and any
of the villagers that had stood against them. There must have been
two hundred invaders and our unit was only forty, so the only thing
we could have done was die alongside the others. The men, they
wanted to charge, but I ordered them to hold." This was an
important point to Captain Hobbleswood. He paused to make sure that
it was understood.

Dasen nodded, and the captain
continued, "We watched the attack from the cover of the trees until
the invaders spotted us and charged the hill. I am not proud to say
that we ran. As I said, we wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes against
that lot, and I thought we’d be a lot more useful alive than under
the ground, so we ran. Still, the invaders were some of the best
horsemen I’ve ever seen. Their mounts couldn’t have been fresh, but
they chased us down effortlessly. We made just enough of a stand so
that most of us could escape into the deep woods where they
couldn’t follow. Still, we lost a dozen men that day, and I’m not
sure if we killed a single one of those bastards.

“
We’ve been trying to get
to Thoren ever since, but the invaders keep pushing us north. I
swear every road and trail east of here is swarming with them. I
don’t know how, but they seem to know where we are, because every
time we try to break east they meet us and drive us back. All told,
I’ve lost over half my men. Half of those remaining are hurt in
some way. So now, we’re trying to get north of the main road,
hoping we can break out of the forest there and make a run for
Thoren.”

The captain paused to take a long
drink from a water bag that the sergeant had produced. The drink
was followed by another barrage of puffs from the short-stemmed
pipe. When he had the smoke boiling from his mouth and nose, he
turned to Dasen. "From what Andies and Winnton tell me, you have
also concluded that these men are from across the Clouded Range.
Personally, I can think of no other explanation. I have to believe
it is a full-scale invasion. Do either of you have anything to add
to that?" The officers both shook their heads.

The men allowed a long moment to pass
between them in which everyone’s eyes turned to the dancing glow of
the fire. Eventually, Sergeant Rathman used a stout log to stir the
fire then placed it on the shimmering coals. Dasen felt somewhat
uncomfortable as the silence stretched, broken only by the muted
conversation from the scouts on the other side of the clearing. He
wondered if he should say something but could not think what it
would be, so he allowed the silence to build until it was almost
palpable.

Captain Hobbleswood finally brought
his eyes from the fire and looked toward him. His eyes were sharp
and stern, but Dasen could see a sudden flicker of fatigue in them
as if he were carrying a tremendous load and was just barely hiding
the strain. He cleared his throat to break the silence and drew the
undivided attention of his subordinates. “Well, Dasen,” he sat back
on his stool, “I suppose the burden falls on you now. Tell us ev .
. . .”

The captain’s words trailed into a
sickening gurgle. His eyes bulged, and his face filled with shock.
He convulsed then let out a terrible cry that was cut off by a
thin-fingered hand that wrapped around his mouth and pulled his
head back to expose his throat. Following the hand, a small head
like that of a lizard peaked out over the captain’s shoulder. The
lizard looked at Dasen with hourglass eyes before opening its broad
mouth and sinking small triangular teeth into the captain’s
throat.

The captain, as if only then realizing
what was happening, tried furiously to pull the small creature
away. He stood and flailed, pulling at the thing’s small legs, but
it was clamped in place. It seemed a long time that he fought while
Dasen and the other officers watched, too overcome to move, but too
soon his hands went limp, he fell to his knees, then tottered onto
his back, legs twitching, arms convulsing.

It was only then that Dasen snapped
out of his daze. He stood, heart pounding, hands shaking and
searched the night around him. The sergeant and lieutenant made
more dramatic if not faster recoveries. Their swords appeared in a
flash. Sergeant Rathman accompanied his weapon’s appearance with
the foulest string of obscenities Dasen had ever heard, while Andi,
his face white as the cloud-obscured moon above, removed the
creature from the captain’s body with one clean stroke.

But that creature was just the
beginning. Countless more small shapes bubbled from the shadows to
take the first one’s place. They swarmed over the captain’s body,
fighting among themselves for a place to feast of the dying flesh.
Andi slashed at them with his sword, but there were too many, and
they soon covered the body and turned to new victims.

“
Rathman, to my side,”
Andi ordered. “Dasen, run, get out of here. We’ll cover you.
Go!”

The sergeant joined Andi to face the
creatures pouring from the trees, blocking Dasen from their
advance. They swung their swords with abandon, slashing down
several of the small things with each blow, but for every one
killed, two more came. Dasen did not have any intention of
fighting. He turned to follow Andi’s orders but did not know where
to go.

All around the clearing, the scouts
were fighting and dying. Shapes moved around the glowing fires in a
wild dance. Rangers thrashed and stabbed at the darkness around
them with swords, spears, and knives. Hordes of little lizard men
fell but still more came, a seemingly endless supply. Several of
the scout’s had already been overrun, and their bodies writhed with
creatures. With no other breaks apparent in the carnage, Dasen
eased himself toward one of those piles, hoping the creatures would
be so absorbed that he might run past. He was just about to make
his break, when the mass of two-foot-tall creatures began to
change. Transfixed, he watched the creatures growing, merging,
altering until a new creature rose from the tattered corpse and
flexed its long, lean body.

This creature was entirely different
from the ones that had combined to create it. Whereas the initial
things had reached to Dasen’s knee with thin arms and legs and
oversized heads. The new creature had the size and build of a tall,
lean man with powerful shoulders and perfectly proportioned arms,
legs, and chest all of which sparkled in the firelight like
polished armor. It extended its arms revealing three-fingered hands
that ended in flat blades. And behind it, two shimmering metallic
tails thrashed.

Something warm and wet splattered
across Dasen’s face, bringing his attention back to his immediate
surroundings. He turned and looked into the distorted face of
Sergeant Rathman a few short feet away. His eyes were popped, and
his mouth was frozen in a curse. A featureless face peeked around
him. Long fingers wrapped around his shoulders as a spiked tail
pushed the rest of the way through his chest. The sergeant released
a gurgling scream as he died, but Dasen could not wrest his eyes
from the creature. There was no expression on its face, but its
eyes glowed with an unnatural light that seemed to revel in the
sergeant’s death.

The glint of the creature's other tail
whipping toward his head brought Dasen from his shock in just
enough time to react. He dove from the tail, rolled to the side,
and clutched Sergeant Rathman's sword in a single motion. The claws
of a smaller creature ripped his shirt as he rolled, so he swung at
where he had been moments before and was pleased to see the
creature’s head pop from its shoulders as the blade met its
neck.

He rolled a few more times before
jumping to his feet and held the sword out. He found himself
surprisingly calm and ready. It was almost as if the battle was
happening somewhere far away from him and he was only watching it.
At the same time, he felt like it was powering him, giving him
focus, allowing him to do things that he would never otherwise
manage. Still, he knew that he could not fight the things in the
camp. A quick inspection showed only a few scouts still standing.
Both Andi and Sergeant Rathman were now dead. And several of the
larger creatures were rising from the remnants of the
fallen.

Dasen had no choice but to run, but
where? Then the creature was on him. Having finished with the
sergeant, it charged toward him, launching one of its spiked tails
at his chest as it came.

Reacting without thought, Dasen
brought the sword around to meet the tail in a crash of steel on
steel that nearly shook the weapon from his hands. But that was
just the beginning. The creature swept by him, spun, and slashed
bladed fingers across his exposed back. Dasen shot up, clutching at
the unreachable gashes. Then, with a pirouette that would have
shamed a dancer from a royal troupe, the creature whipped its other
tail into the back of his knees, sending him crashing to the
ground.

The creature whirled with startling
grace to face its fallen foe but did not move to finish him. Dasen
expected that each heartbeat would be his last, but the creature
just stood above him with its tails flailing behind it, eyes
glowing in the dark night like small moons. Searching for an
explanation, Dasen turned his head and saw the shadows of small
bodies. The larger creature had set him up for its smaller
brethren. He was to be eaten alive, and all he could do was lay
there and wait for it to happen.

The sounds of screams echoed from the
distance, the last of the forest masters falling. They were the
sounds of hope lost. There was no one left to help and no chance to
escape. All Dasen could do was watch the creatures close and pray
that his suffering would be short. Heart pounding, shaking limbs
paralyzed with fear, he forced his eyes closed and thought about
Teth, prayed that she was safe.

The clang of metal striking metal
brought his eyes open as soon as they had closed. He turned his
head in time to see an arrow fall harmlessly to the ground where it
had bounded off of the creature’s metallic exoskeleton. He felt a
surge at Teth’s unseen presence but silently wished that she would
run and avoid his ghastly fate. Another sound echoed from in front
of him. This time it was the thud of a melon being hit by a hammer.
It was followed by the clatter of metal on metal as the creature
fell.

Before the body was down – an arrow
quivering above its left eye – Dasen was on his feet. Seeing their
meal’s potential escape, the small creatures turned their methodic
approach into a charge. Dasen ran right at them and hurdled their
outstretched arms. He ran in the direction the arrow had come from
until he identified a spectral shape in the shadow-shrouded trees.
It was waving wildly – Teth. He sprinted toward her.

Dasen was in the trees in seconds.
Teth emerged from the brush beside him, but he did not slow. He
could not be distracted by anything but escape. Surely the
creatures would follow. He had to focus his energy, all this
thoughts, on getting away from the camp, and that is what he
did.

He concentrated on running, on the
forest, on himself – his legs, arms, lungs, and heart – and felt
for the first time in his life as if he were in complete control,
as if it could do no wrong. Obstacles jumped out at him and were
easily overcome. Branches grabbed at him, and he brushed them
aside. Roots and rocks were impotent against his sure strides. He
was running faster than he ever had, and nothing seemed capable of
stopping him.

Not even fatigue could hold him in
check. His body should have been screaming for him to stop, but he
could not feel it. He registered a searing pain from what was
probably his back, but he could not be sure. The pain, like the
fatigue, seemed miles away, as if his mind were no longer connected
to his body, as if it were controlling the vessel from some far-off
sanctuary.

Lost in that refuge, Dasen
realized that he was not only running as he never had, he was
sensing the world around him in a different way as well. He could
not hope to explain it, but he could
understand
. He could see the forest
as a whole, not one tree, branch, bush, or rock at a time, but the
whole thing. He no longer saw the roots below his feet; he saw the
place of those roots in the order of the forest, knew why they were
there, how they connected to the nature around them, and what they
would look like five years from now. The forest was an open book,
held no more mystery to him. He knew its every secret, was seeing
the Holy Order, looking at every stitch of its intricate
tapestry.