Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) (2 page)

The volunteers had seen the battle. They cheered as Lorik approached them. Most of the volunteers were farmers or apprentices who had been forced to flee their home during the Norsik raids. Lorik and Stone had trained them to fight together, but to always strike and run in hopes of preserving their numbers. They were in awe of Lorik; his ability with the sword was unmatched in Ortis. Even Stone, a trained killer, knew that Lorik’s fighting skills were in a different class now that he had been changed by the Drery Dru.

“All hail the conquering heroes!” one of the men shouted.

The others joined in, but Lorik ignored their praise. He could see the refugees behind his line of mounted volunteers. Some looked hopeful, others fearful. He didn’t want to frighten them, but he knew they needed a healthy dose of fear.

“We have to keep these people moving,” Lorik said. “I want four of you to help them. Do I have any volunteers?”

None of the men made a sound. Lorik was appreciative of their loyalty, but he knew that fighting wasn’t as glamorous as they believed. Most of them hadn’t yet fought in a desperate struggle, or seen their friends die. The group of Leffers they had just fought was their biggest challenge to date, and while they fought well, they hadn’t really engaged the enemy.

He called out four names, watching as those men’s faces fell, but each one obeyed without complaint. He called them to him and gave them specific instructions. They were to keep the refugees moving north until they reached the camp that was being assembled along the coast of the Northern Sea near the Wilderlands. There were thousands of displaced people there now, preparing for the army of mutated fighters the wizard Zollin had warned Lorik was coming. If the wizard was right, then they were in for a difficult fight and there was no avoiding it.

“The rest of you lot walk your horses and retrieve your spears,” Lorik ordered.

The men dismounted and obeyed. Stone waved to Vera, who was driving a heavy looking wagon that was filled with weapons, medical supplies, and food. Lorik had taught her to control the team of horses; they weren’t a matched pair and the beasts could be unruly. She was improving with each day, and the horses—both were plow animals taken into service when their owners fled north—were growing accustomed to her instructions. They plodded toward Stone and Lorik now, carrying the supplies for the small band of volunteers. They had traveled far enough south that they were able to restock their food and other supplies from the local farms and villages they passed. The Norsik had raided deep into Ortis, but Lorik’s band of fighters were nearing Ort City, which was the capital of Ortis, and while they met many refugees fleeing the Leffers, they were still able to find food more easily than before.

“It looks like these damn monsters are becoming more and more abundant,” Stone said.

“That’s the largest group we’ve faced,” Lorik agreed, as Vera arrived with the wagon.

“What happened?” Vera asked.

“We don’t know,” Stone replied. “Lorik cast a spell or something.”

“So you’re a wizard now too?” she asked, her voice serious, but her face revealing her mirth.

“Don’t start,” Lorik said.

“I can’t even ask questions now?”

“You aren’t asking questions, you’re stirring the pot.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Vera said.

“You’re spending too much time with this fool,” he said, pointing at Stone.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Stone complained.

“How did you do it?” Vera asked, serious for the first time.

“I don’t know,” Lorik admitted. “I was fighting. The damn creature kicked me in the shoulder and almost knocked me down. Then I charged forward, but just before my sword struck I felt a shiver, or a tickle. Not enough to hurt, just enough to notice it.”

“A tickle?” Vera asked.

“I don’t know how to describe it. I felt something.”

“And then what?”

“And then as soon as my sword touched the monster it...” he was lost for words.

“It exploded,” Stone said, “all over me.”

Vera giggled.

“It’s not funny,” Stone complained. “It stinks.”

“Well,” Vera said, “you better find a place to wash up. You aren’t coming anywhere near me until you do.”

Lorik and Stone untied their horses from the back of the wagon. Stone rode a dappled mare that looked almost like a pony next to Lorik’s Shire horse. The black Shire horse stood 17 hands high, with thick shoulders and legs. The hooves were wide too, and although the horse was black everywhere else, the hooves were covered with long, white hair.

Lorik climbed up into the saddle. He had not wanted to ride at first. He was tireless since the Drery Dru had changed him. He could run all day without getting tired and actually travel farther than he could riding a horse. The big Shire horse had been recruited to pull the wagon, but they couldn’t find a horse big enough to match to the huge animal, so Lorik had accepted the mount, since his huge frame packed with bulging muscle would be a burden to any of the other horses.

“I want to keep moving south,” he said.

“How far are we going to go?” Vera asked.

“At least as far as Ort City,” Lorik said. “Surely there’s some sort of ruler overseeing things there. We need to bring them on board with our plan to take a stand in the north.”

“What about the people farther south?” Stone asked.

“I have a feeling there aren’t many of them left,” Lorik said. “Without protection, they would make easy targets for those flying horse creatures.”

They made their way through the now abandoned village that had been attacked by the Leffers they had just fought. Many of the structures were ruined.

“They don’t leave much behind, do they?” Stone observed.

“It looks like the roofs are caved in on just about every building,” Vera added.

Lorik expected to see the bodies of people who had tried to protect their loved ones. It seemed unnatural to look around the village and see so much destruction, but no sign of the dead. It made the village seem almost haunted. Some of the stone chimneys still had wisps of smoke rising out of them, the smell of food being cooked was discernible even amid the odor of animal droppings and garbage that had been left in the narrow, mud-lined alleys between the buildings.

“What if Ort City is just an abandoned shell, like this place?” Vera asked nervously.

“Our goal is to find someone who can take charge of the kingdom,” Lorik answered. “Surely someone must still be in the capital.”

“Maybe,” Stone said. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that the volunteers were following along behind them and not rooting through the ruined city for treasures.

“Do you think these creatures went into the Marshlands?” Vera asked.

“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Lorik said.

“I thought your mud dragons were bad,” Stone said. “At least they didn’t actually fly.”

“Speaking of flying dragons,” Lorik said. “I wouldn’t mind for the wizard to come flying back in on his. I’ll bet they could make quick work of these monsters.”

“There’s not much hope of that, though, is there?” Vera said. “We’re on our own here. King Oveer took his army and left us alone.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Stone said. “Why wouldn’t he leave at least some of his warriors to guard the queen?”

“There was never any real love between those two,” Vera said. “Not if the rumors are true.”

“So Queen Issalyn didn’t love her philandering husband,” Lorik said. “She certainly wouldn’t be the first.”

“Nor the last, I’d say,” Stone added.

“And the king was a pompous fool,” Lorik went on. “If she’s still alive, she could rally the people to our cause and lift the spirits of all the refugees who had to flee their homes.”

“Unless she really is as cold as people say,” Vera said.

“I still think you should simply declare yourself king and have it done with,” Stone said to Lorik. “Who could deny you? And besides, you’re twice the man Oveer was.”

“Don’t talk that way,” Lorik said. “I’m not trying to become king.”

“What about that Kingtree thing in the Wilderlands,” Stone said. “Don’t the forest elves already consider you our king?”

“It’s complicated,” Lorik said.

“Not so much,” Stone said. “You’re the right man for the job. That’s a fact.”

Vera looked at Lorik. She had known him almost her entire life. First as protector, then as her lover and friend. He had been gallant when Stone had shown up in their village on the southern tip of Ortis and stolen her heart. He had befriended the young fighter and even partnered with him. They made an odd pair, the burly teamster and the lithe, young warrior, but their friendship had been strong. Vera loved Lorik like a brother, but she couldn’t always understand what drove him. Now that his physical attributes had been enhanced by the magic of the Drery Dru, she knew that Lorik could do whatever he wanted. She doubted that any man could best him in combat, and she knew that no woman could resist him if he tried to woo her. The young men from the farms and villages they passed begged to become part of his small force of volunteers. Yet, he still didn’t seem comfortable. He still seemed to be searching for something to give him peace.

“Let’s stay focused on the task at hand,” Lorik said. “We need to find a place to make camp. And I want scouts out in all four directions.”

“You’ve got it,” Stone said.

The young warrior turned his horse and rode back to the volunteers who were following on foot, leading their own horses to give the beasts a rest. He gave the men orders and they all mounted up. Two kicked their horses into a gallop and rode past Lorik and Vera. The others spread out in a line to either side of the wagon. They stayed within easy shouting distance of the man to their right and left, just in case trouble found them. They set the butts of their spears on the top of their stirrups, so they could be held easily with one hand and quickly brought around and made ready for action.

They rode until twilight, then they made camp, leaving the wagon in the middle of the road. They built small fires using whatever fuel they could find, included dried dung. Occasionally, they saw or heard people moving in the darkness, beyond the ring of fire, but they couldn’t see in the darkness. Clouds had formed a blanket over the stars and the night felt oppressively dark. Lorik took the first watch, and he couldn’t help but think of his first night in the Wilderlands. It had been dark there as well, almost like a cave, with the thick tree trunks blocking out any light that tried to penetrate the great forest. He’d felt exposed in the Wilderlands; he’d felt the eyes of the Drery Dru watching him long before he even knew they existed. Now, he felt a sense of barrenness, like a woman without children. The land was still alive, and he occasionally heard the shuffling of people moving through the darkness, but the sound he expected did not come. He listened intently in the darkness for the whirring hum of the Leffers’ wings.

Hours passed slowly, but Lorik no longer needed as much sleep as before. A few hours rest could easily carry him through two days. So he took the watch, letting his men sleep. Not far away, Stone and Vera lay huddled together. At first, he had resented their connection, their unmistakable love, but now he cherished it. They were his closest companions, the people who still saw the teamster, the simple man from the Marshlands. He could trust them, and their love for one another gave him comfort. He really had no idea what his own future held, but longevity wasn’t something he was counting on. He knew that if something happened to him, Stone and Vera would have each other to lean on.

The sun was finally rising when he roused his volunteers. They broke camp and ate cold rations as they pushed farther south. It was close to midday when they saw a large group moving toward them.

“Who do think that is?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know,” Lorik admitted. “Big group, though.”

“Very big,” Stone agreed. “And it looks like they’re staying together.”

“Let’s go find out,” Lorik said.

“Be careful,” Vera called from the wagon.

“Yes, dear,” Stone replied sarcastically.

They spurred their horses forward. Lorik’s Shire horse couldn’t keep up a gallop very long, but it did its best. When they were finally close enough to the large group, they could see that it was mostly made up of villagers. Many carried their possessions on makeshift packs which they strapped onto their backs. A few had hand carts and there were children running and playing together along the edges of the crowd.

“Would you look at that,” Stone said.

He was referring to the large group of women in the center of the group. They were obviously servants; most wore plain dresses and they stayed close together. In the center of the group of women were two horses. The women who sat on them were older. One of the horses even carried two of the frail looking matrons.

“You think they’re from Ort City?” Lorik asked.

“That would be my guess,” Stone replied.

“Well, let’s go introduce ourselves.”

They rode forward, coming eventually to a stop twenty paces from the crowd, which eyed them warily. A horn sounded and the group stopped. Many of the exhausted looking villagers dropped their packs and some even sat down on the ground to rest.

“Hello!” Lorik called out. “My name is Lorik.”

“We have not time for bandits,” came a strong, feminine voice from the crowd.

“We’re not bandits,” Lorik shouted back. “We are volunteers. We’ve come from the Wilderlands to help fight the monsters.”

“Are you the same volunteers who defeated the Norsik raiders?” the woman asked.

The crowd was parting and a smaller group of women, all armed with swords and shields, came forward. In the center was a tall woman, with thick, wavy brown hair. Around her head was a golden band with jewels that sparkled in the weak, winter sunlight. She stared at Lorik, both proud and cautious.

“We are,” Lorik said. “Although we had some help.”

“I will speak to you,” she said.