Haladras (13 page)

He strode out of the alleyway. Skylar and the others
followed.

Once far away from the village, the companions dismounted
their paquas and sent the lazy beasts walking down the road, riderless.

“We’ll have to leave the road and keep to the forest,” said
Krom. “It will slow our journey, but we can’t risk being followed. No doubt,
the soldiers will try to track us.” Then he pointed a hard finger at Skylar.
“Perhaps next time you’ll follow orders. That damsel was not worth the danger
you put yourself into.”

Skylar did not protest, but merely scowled and watched as
Krom shouldered his pack and led their little band deeper into the forest.

“If it’s any consolation, my prince,” came the voice of Grim
from his side, “I thought it was bravely done.”

They camped that night within a small clearing in the
forest. Krom forbid them from lighting a fire. And so they quickly ate a cold
supper and laid out on their bed cloths in hopes of falling asleep before it
grew too cold.

Skylar lay on his back, staring up into the dark canopy
above. His thoughts felt too heavy to let him sleep. So many questions still
taunted him.

“Are you asleep, my prince?”

Grim’s voice was no louder than the gentle rustle of leaves
in the night breeze. So quiet that Skylar wondered if he hadn’t imagined the
voice in his head.

Skylar turned his head slightly.

“No,” he said, trying to make his voice as quiet as Grim’s.

“You asked me about the song which I sang this morning,
about Elydar...,” he said. “I did not answer you then because I would have done
you an injustice. Sometimes words get in the way of understanding.”

There was a pause.

“Elydar is a planet,” continued Grim. “Where? I do not know.
Nor do I know if any man knows. Prophets of ages past wrote of it. They say it
is the planet closest to the dwelling place of the Spirit King, ruler of all
the stars and galaxies. They say that Elydar is the greatest of all planets,
beautiful beyond comprehension, where peace always reigns. Time even is
different there. A thousand years for us is but one day on Elydar. So that a
man may live for millennia ere he grows old and dies.

“When I was but a lad, my mother would sing to me that same
song. It has ever brought me comfort when my heart is heavy. Just to think
there is such a place...I’ve dreamed of finding it. But I fear it is not my destiny
to do so.”

Grim paused again, allowing Skylar time to contemplate his
words.

“You say that Elydar is the closest planet to the Spirit
King,” said Skylar. “Why then should you not wish to find his dwelling place
instead? Should it not be greater than Elydar?”

Skylar thought he could almost hear Grim smile in the dark.

“That, my prince, is a difficult journey indeed. It is
written that the only way to his planet is through death. Resurrecting the
bodies of the dead, the Spirit King selects those he deems worthy to enter his
dominion, there to enjoy eternal life. No, life in his world must be earned,
not taken.”

More questions swirled in Skylar’s head. But as if to say,
‘that is enough for tonight,’ Grim broke the silence with that same soft,
lilting melody about Elydar. And Skylar, exhausted from the day’s journey
drifted off to sleep, thinking of Elydar and wishing to be back home.

TWELVE

T
HE NEXT TWO
days it rained.
Something Skylar had only heard tales about. He was glad of the oilskin his
uncle hired the outfitter to make for him.

The gloomy weather only added to Skylar’s longing for home,
to the bitterness he felt toward Lasseter. How could Lasseter have done this to
him? Skylar’s one consolation during those days of endless walking and
incessant rainfall was talking with Grim. The two had become fast friends since
leaving Amrahdel. Something about this Grim Galloway made Skylar like him from
the start. He had a noble bearing, and yet was as humble as any man Skylar had
met. He told Skylar stories. Having travelled to nearly every corner of the
empire, Grim recounted many stories of strange sights and heroic deeds, of
adventures—they seemed to Skylar.

“If you call what we are on an adventure,” said Grim after
Skylar had expressed amazement over all Grim had seen and done, “then I have
had adventures aplenty.”

On the third day of their journey since abandoning the road
and their paquas, they came to a break in the trees. Before them stretched
several leagues of marshland, waist high with reeds. Beyond the marsh, rising
from the earth like a living mountain stood another forest. Skylar was struck
with awe as he gazed upon it.

“If there is any place on Quoryn that one can call
forbidden,” said Krom, “the Gray Forest is it. Few dare to enter it. And of
those, few ever return.”

“So why are
we
going there?” said Skylar.

“Because we have you,” replied Krom matter-of-factly.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your reasoning.”

“Don’t worry,” broke in Endrick. “I won’t let them sacrifice
you to the tree gods.”

“There will be no sacrificing,” retorted Krom, sternly. “The
reason the Gray Forest is forbidden is because the Mauwik guard it so well that
should anyone so much as break the branch off a tree, they will send an arrow
through the culprit’s heart.”

“Comforting, isn’t it?” said Endrick.

“That’s enough of your quips, Endrick,” chided Krom. “The
Mauwik will not hurt us. They are friends of your father, Skylar. They hate
Tarus. The Mauwik have few direct dealings with the world outside their forest.
Yet, they are aware of the state of the empire. Shrewd and skillful people,
they are able to traverse the forest unseen and unheard. They will be watching
us the moment we step foot into their realm.”

“And it’s a bit unnerving,” added Endrick. “They’re a bit
overprotective of those trees. My advice—don’t touch anything.”

Endrick raised one eyebrow and nodded as if to seal his
warning, then turned and plodded on ahead.

Never before had Skylar beheld anything as magnificent as the
trees of the Gray Forest. They were immense. So much so that he felt as if he
were entering a land of giants. Each one was as big around as ten of the
largest trees from the forest they had traveled for the past several days. And
there was no end to their height. Standing at the base of one of them, Skylar
looked straight up its towering trunk, spiked with green boughs, and it seemed
to stretch on for leagues.

The companions entered the forest in silence, slowing their
pace so that they scarcely moved at all. Something about the forest inspired a
sort of reverence, like stepping onto sacred ground. The trees stood like
sentinels, tall and alert, guarding some secret treasure.

Deeper into the enchanted forest they walked. The morning
and early afternoon passed away calmly. Skylar began to wonder if the Mauwik
weren’t really part of some fable. There was no sign of any inhabitants in the
forest.

“The Mauwik live up there,” said Grim, appearing noiselessly
at Skylar’s side, as he was wont to do. He pointed at the green ceiling that
was the mesh of tree limbs above them.

Skylar looked up but saw nothing.

“You won’t see them,” said Grim, reading the confusion on
Skylar’s face. “They’re too high up, shielded by the dense growth of tree
boughs.”

“Why do they live up there? Surely it would be easier to
live on the ground.”

“For safety. Men have lusted after these trees for
centuries, desiring to use their wood as lumber. Many have tried to eradicate
the Mauwik. All attempts have failed. The Mauwik are too resourceful.”

“But how are we supposed to seek their aid if they’re all
the way up there?”

Grim chuckled softly. “You shall see, my prince. You shall
see.”

From in front of them, Endrick looked over his shoulder and
added, “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

The remainder of the afternoon they spent forging their way
deeper and deeper into the Gray Forest. Skylar neither saw nor heard sign of
anyone else in the forest. Indeed, he perceived little sign of any living
creatures. It was as though the entire forest had retreated into hiding at the
arrival of five strange men from the outside world.

At dusk Krom ordered a halt.

“We’ll rest and wait here. There’s little use in traveling
farther. No one will follow us this deep, so it’s safe to build a fire.
Endrick, you and Skylar collect firewood. And remember,” he added sternly,
“only pick dead wood—whatever you can find on the forest floor.”

“Personally,” said Endrick as they walked away from the
encampment, “I’d rather burn my own cloak that risk upsetting one of the Mauwik.”

The blaze of the fire felt warm and comfortable against the
chilly night air. Skylar pulled his cloak tight and held his hands up to the
heat. It was colder in the Gray Forest than it had been in the other woods.
Skylar felt certain of that. The fire made up for it, though.

All five of the companions sat around the fire, propped
against a tree or bed roll, staring into the depths of the dancing fire, all
lost in thought. They had eaten better than they had for several days. Grim had
caught a few rabbits the day before. And they were finally able to cook them.
With full bellies and weary limbs, drowsiness quickly set in. Skylar nodded-off
several times while watching the leaping flames and listening to their pop and
sizzle.

After a time, Lasseter stood up and stretched his back. His
cloak parted, caught by a sudden breeze, and Skylar noticed the glint of the
sword hanging from his side. In the toil of their journey since leaving the
village, he had forgotten about the weapons his uncle and these men carried.
Now his curiosity renewed.

“I’ll keep the first watch,” said Lasseter. “One of us ought
to be awake when the Mauwik decide to show up.”

“I don’t think—”

“Uncle, why do you carry a sword?” blurted out Skylar,
cutting off Krom unintentionally. He hadn’t intended it, but the question
sounded more accusatory than merely quizzical.

Both Krom and Lasseter turned their eyes on him. Neither
spoke. They seemed to be considering how to respond, or perhaps whether to
respond at all.

“Why do all of you carry swords?” said Skylar, emboldened by
their silence.

“We carry swords, Skylar,” said Krom, “to protect you—as you
witnessed in the village.”

“Why not carry blasters? Surely they offer more protection
than a sword.”

“Little good they did those soldiers,” said Lasseter.

“The blasters,” added Krom, “are inventions of that same
menacing coward who hunts for you like a bloodthirsty wolf. Morvath.”

Skylar shivered involuntarily. The darkness which surrounded
them crept in closer.

“Created by a coward to achieve wicked purposes, it is a
weapon only of evil. True hearts and true blades are the only weapons we
carry.”

Krom said no more on the matter and Skylar dared not pursue
it further.

“No,” said Krom to Lasseter, lightening the previous heavy
tone in his voice. “A watch won’t be necessary. I suspect the forest guardians
will visit us shortly. They are watching us now, I believe. How many are there,
Grim?”

The reticent companion slowly lifted his gaze from the fire.

“Half a dozen,” he replied so laconically that Skylar
wondered at him.

Skylar shifted uneasily on the ground, discomfited at the
thought of these mysterious tree-dwellers lurking nearby in the black cloud of
night.

Lasseter reacted without surprise, nodded, then left the group
to grab another log for the fire. Endrick was the only one other than Skylar
who seemed at all alarmed by Grim’s assertion.

“Half a dozen!” cried Endrick. “Why so many? If they would
just politely invite us up into their tree-houses, I’d be happy to oblige. But
the way they go about it...”

Endrick broke off, shaking his head and threw a twig into
the fire. The flames popped, rose a little higher, dancing lively. Suddenly,
the roaring flames died, plunging the companions into impenetrable darkness.

It happened so quickly, Skylar did not at first realize what
had happened. Before he could gather his wits or even cry out, something seized
him from behind, a gunnysack thrust over his head. He tried to break free, but
whatever it was held him fast. The thing moved rapidly, carrying him away from
the others.

Within moments, he felt himself lifted off the ground,
ascending as quickly as if he were flying his jetwing. He could see nothing.
The upward motion stopped with a jerk. He strained his ears for any sound that
would give him a clue of what was happening.

The pause only lasted a second, before he felt the thing
that held him rock back, then hurtle him forward.

Skylar panicked. Nothing held him. He was flying through
air, free falling headlong. Falling.

His stomach clenched hard as a stone, and his heart stopped.

With a jolt, his fall stopped. Something had snatched him
from the air. Scarcely had his fall been arrested, however, before this other
being launched him back into the air.

Flying.

Falling.

Caught.

The pattern repeated for what felt like an hour. The motion
made Skylar nauseous.

Flying.

Falling.

Caught.

The unseen life form held him. Skylar felt himself swiftly
moved along. Whatever or whoever held him was running. Then the thing halted
and set Skylar on his feet. Roughly, the sack covering his head was removed.
Pale torchlight filled his eyes, which immediately took stock of his
surroundings.

He stood on a platform fashioned from tree branches, joined
together by ropes and vines. The platform spanned the gap between the trunks of
two massive trees. A hut, with a conical-shaped, thatched roof occupied the far
side of the platform, against the side of one tree. Torches lined the
perimeter. Similar lights burned above them, higher up in the trees and surrounding
them in all directions, all flanking the sides of platforms and huts. Each
platform varied in size. Some carried entire clusters of huts, others only one
or two. Wooden planks and ropes formed walkways suspended from one platform to
the next. An occasional spiral staircase ran the circumference of a tree. It
was a city among the trees.

Skylar’s wrists were bound together with coarse rope. He
wondered when his captor had had time to bind them. He no longer struggled. His
captors seemed to possess strength far exceeding his own. And to his relief,
Grim and Lasseter were on the platform with him, likewise bound and guarded.
Neither Lasseter nor Grim said anything to him, but Grim nodded at him
reassuringly.

A short while later, Krom was hauled up, calm as ever.

These must be the Mauwik
, Skylar thought. He wasn’t
quite sure what he had expected them to look like. Little green men with hands
for feet? Something entirely unlike a man? Whatever he’d imagined, it was
wrong. The Mauwik were just like any other man. They were all unusually tall,
with fair skin, dark hair worn tied back. In the dim torchlight, one could
scarcely discern the color of their eyes. They were garbed in animal skins:
jerkins and skirts made from strips of the same material. Their feet were
unshod. A quiver of red-fletched arrows hung from their backs. Animal skin
bands circled their wrists and forearms.

Skylar heard the gruff voice before he saw its owner.

“Put me down already! I can walk from here.”

It was Endrick, and he didn’t sound pleased at being
manhandled by the Mauwik. “You fellows sure know how to welcome friends.”

The stout figure of Endrick stumbled onto the platform, next
to Skylar. The Mauwik holding him removed the sack from Endrick’s head.

“Thank you!” cried Endrick.

The Mauwik, despite Endrick’s outburst, remained as mute as
stones and stood just as still.

“Charming fellows, these Mauwik,” said Endrick out of the
corner of his mouth. “Charming. One of these days they’re going to drop me
playing that acrobatic game of theirs. And I don’t think it will be an
accident.”

A stirring came from the opposite end of the platform. A
large Mauwik stepped out of the hut and eyed the companions. His appearance was
much the same as their guards. But his hair was gray, his face darker and lined
with age, his stature diminished, a mere relic of a once powerful body. A
pendant of an intricately-carved green stone hung from his neck. Encircling his
head was a band of leather.

One of the younger Mauwik approached him obsequiously,
bowing his head. The two exchanged a few words which Skylar could not
understand. The old Mauwik nodded slowly and returned his gaze to the
companions.

 “You have trespassed on our forest,” said the old
Mauwik in a voice that was full of strength and pride. “We do not allow
Landdwellers to enter here. The penalty for doing so is death.”

The old Mauwik spoke with such cold finality that Skylar’s
heart froze. Perhaps Krom had been wrong; the Mauwiks would not show them any
deference. Oh, why had they come here? Why wasn’t he back home on Haladras with
his mother? With Kendyl? Kindor and the docks? His belief that there even was
such a person as Morvath, much less that he was after him, dispersed like sand
in the wind.